Class 
Book 



COEEESPOKDENCE 

OP 

WILLIAM ELLEET CHANGING, D.D. 

AND 

LUCY AIKIK 



C0KKESP02nDE£TCE 

■ 

OF 

WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, 

AND 

LUCY AIKIN, 

From 1826 to 1842. 

EDITED BY 

ANNA LETITIA LE BEETOX. 




"WILLIAMS AND NOEGATE, 

14, HENRIETTA STREET, COYENT GARDEN, LONDON 
And 20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. 

1874. 



LONDON : 
PRINTED BY C. GREEN AND SON, 
178, STRAND. 



MAR 15 19i/ 



PEEFACE. 



In the year 1826, the Eev. Dr. Channing sent to Miss 
Aikin his work on the Character and Writings of Milton, 
which he had published in the United States. She wrote 
her acknowledgments to the author, whom she had met 
at her aunt Mrs. BarbauhTs house in Stoke JSTewington 
while he was on a short visit to this country. Thus 
began a correspondence which continued for nearly 
twenty years, and ended only with his death. 

The letters, at first somewhat formal, gradually ripen 
into expressions of warm friendship and the freest com- 
munication of the sentiments of the writers on subjects 
of the deepest interest in politics, theology, literature, 
the state of society, and the manners and condition of 
the people of their two countries. Although the greater 
period over which this correspondence extends, from 
1826 to 1842, is within the personal recollection of those 
only who have arrived at mature age, the traditions 
of the stirring times of the first Eeform Bill, of the 
accession of Her present Majesty, and of the other great 



PREFACE. 



events of the last half-century, are still fresli in the 
memory of most, and many questions then agitating the 
minds of the people both of this country and of the 
United States have not lost their interest or received 
their solution; while the social and religious topics 
treated in these letters possess a value for all time. 

An agreement was made between the writers that the 
whole of the correspondence should belong to the sur- 
vivor ; and after the decease of Dr. Channing, the letters 
were given by Miss Aikin to her niece, the editor, in 
whose family she passed the last twenty years of her 
life. 

In 1864, a Memoir of Lucy Aikin was published, to 
which were appended some of her letters to Dr. Chan- 
ning. The editor having been pressed with entreaties 
from numerous friends and admirers of Dr. Channing to 
publish his part of the correspondence, has now the 
satisfaction of being able to complete the work by the 
addition of such a selection from his letters as, it is 
trusted, will be of general interest. 

Hampstead, May, 1874. 

P.S. After the correspondence had been printed and 
the publication announced, the editor was favoured with 
a letter from the Eev. W. H. Channing, the nephew and 



PEEFACE. 



vii 



biographer of the late Dr. Charming. She gladly avails 
herself of the privilege of making known to her readers 
this valuable and interesting communication. 

To Mrs. Le Breton. 

Kensington, April, 1874. 

My dear Madam, — The friends of Dr. Channing will deem 
it a privilege to read the letters in which he so frankly opened 
his mind to Miss Aikin ; for few of his writings give a truer 
portrait of his habits of life and thought. These letters are 
rich in singularly faithful sketches of autobiography — in fresh 
and fervent discussions of grand political, social and religious 
problems — in literary, personal and historical criticisms — in 
magnanimous sympathy for the people, the poor, the down- 
cast, the undeveloped — in large and lofty aspirations towards 
a really new era of Christian society — in undaunted hope for 
the sure, however gradual, advancement of universal human- 
ity — in serene trust in the continual guidance, illumination, 
influence and help of the Heavenly Father, bestowed alike 
on persons and the race. 

For many years, indeed, Dr. Channing regarded Miss Aikin 
as one of his most confidential European friends; and he 
wrote to her in consequence with the undisguised freedom of 
familiar intercourse. He valued her letters very highly for 
the liberal information given in them, as to all movements in 



viii 



PREFACE. 



the world of letters, of politics and of religion around her — 
as to leading persons, new books and rising authors — and as 
to the tendencies of the times. And so heartily did he enjoy 
the originality, brightness, spirit, wit and shrewd sagacity 
with which Miss Aikin's opinions were declared, that, in 
the hope of inciting her to full response, he seems often to 
have suggested to her his rising thoughts, as if in half soli- 
loquy. A crowning charm of these letters, therefore, will be 
found in their straightforward directness and simple sincerity. 
The writer's convictions are affirmed modestly, yet with 
utmost candour — decidedly, yet with desire to be set right 
where he may have erred. Apparently he felt sometimes, 
however, that he had been unguarded in disclosing his mental 
processes during the formation of a judgment. "This is 
strong language," he writes on one occasion, "and I have 
thrown it off very much as earnest people talk, who venture 
on hyperbole, and neglect to modify, in their zeal to make 
an impression. You must not take me to the letter." 

It becomes a duty, therefore, which should be conscien- 
tiously fulfilled, to put on record Dr. Channing's own estimate 
of the worth of his portion of this correspondence. It is to be 
found in the following passage from a letter to Miss Aikin 
written in 1839 : 

" I wrote to you in my last that I could return your letters 
to me, so that I might have a right to reclaim my own. But 
the pleasure, which your last letter gave me, has left me no 



PREFACE. 



ix 



heart to execute my purpose. Still I wish for my own, not 
because they are good or bad enough to deserve a moment's 
thought, but simply because I was often conscious, after send- 
ing them away, that I had given utterance to crude notions, 
according little with my deliberate judgment. I therefore 
wish to guard against the possibility of their being published. 
It may be less troublesome to you to burn them than to 
return them, though I might be amused by them, as repre- 
senting past states of mind. But this is of no moment. Do 
what will trouble you least." 

Such an explicit statement of Dr. Channing's wishes as to 
the final disposal to .be made of these letters might seem, at 
first sight, to serve as an injunction against printing any por- 
tions of them. But Miss Aikin evidently did not herself 
interpret the passage so strictly ; for in her letter to Dr. Chan- 
ning's family, conveying this extract, she wrote : 

" There are many letters, or parts of letters, to which 
certainly the sole objection that he mentions does not apply, 

and which I shall willingly transcribe for you And I 

would gladly append to them any notes, derived from my own 
share of the correspondence, which might be required for the 
elucidation of his. I am, indeed, aware that without such 
elucidation some papers would be obscure, and therefore liable 
perhaps to wrong construction. Without publishing, you 
may well desire to retain in your family these beautiful effu- 
sions of his bright and benevolent spirit." 

a 



X 



PREFACE. 



The publication of this correspondence, then, consisting as 
it does of selected letters and parts of letters, may he consi- 
dered as the fulfilment of Miss Aikin's purpose in regard to 
her honoured friend ; and as such it is heartily welcomed by, 

Yours sincerely, 

William Henry Channing. 

P.S. In this letter my purpose is to assume, personally, 
the responsibility for publishing these extracts from Dr. 
Channing's letters. His daughter and son gave, indeed, their 
general consent that selected parts of the correspondence 
should be printed. But as they have not been here to over- 
look the proofs, I alone should be held answerable for the 
publication. 

W. H. C. 



COXTEl^TS. 



1826. PAGE 
To Dr. Changing, July 9. Thanking him for a copy of his " Re- 
marks on Milton" — Criticism of Milton, Prynne, Johnson — Liberty 
and Necessity 1 

1827. 

To Miss Aikin, Feb. 27. Thanks for Miss Aikin' s "Life and Works 
of Mrs. Barbauld" — His visit to her — Miss Sedgwick 4 

To Dr. Channing, May 1. Thanks for Sermon from him — Mrs. Bar- 
bauld's "Hymns for Children" — Unitarianism and Trinitarianism 
— Sis works reprinted in England — Professor Sedgwick 6 

To Miss Aikin, Nov. 1. True views of Religion — It should not be 
the property of the clerical profession — State of religious opinion in 
America — Lingard's History, what is its authority ? 9 

To Miss Aikin, Dec. 13. Introducing Mr. Jared Sparks — Remarks 
on Church Establishment — Miss A.'s "History of Charles I." — 
Exhorts her to be impartial 11 

1828. 

To Miss Aikin, April 27. Introducing Professor and Mrs. Norton — 
Remarks on Lingard's " History of England" — State of the Church 
in Henry the Eighth's reign 12 

To Dr. Channing, May 28. Thanks for "Remarks on Napoleon" — 
111 health — Unable to continue Charles I. — Importance of impar- 
tiality in writing on his times — Criticism on Bonaparte — Mr. Mal- 
thus, a student at "Warrington Academy, his opinion of Unitarianism 
— Mr. Sparks, his difficulties at the State-Paper Office — Professor 
Smyth, of Cambridge . 14 

To Dr. Channing, June 12. Sends "Lesson-book for Children" — 
Mr. Sparks — Repeal of Test Act, her opinion of — Lingard's History 18 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



To Dr. Channing, Aug. 12. Her opinion of his Sermon and Lis 
further remarks on Napoleon — Mr. and Mrs. Norton — The Reforma- 
tion — Hallam's " Constitutional History*' — His birth and education 
— Causes of the acceptance of the Reformation in England — Gfuizot's 
" English Revolution" 19 

To Miss Aikin, Nov. 29. Little books not received — Remarks on 
Reformation under Henry VIII. — Aristocratic principles in England 
— Interest in the well-being of England 23 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 29. Sympathy with her illness — Wishes more 
information and opinion on the Puritans 25 

To Dr. Chaining, Dec. 26. The old Pari cans — Er e Dissenters — 
Evangelical doctrines — Moral and political state of England — Her 
opinion of his last work 27 

1829. 

To Miss Aikin, Mar. 30. Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Ware — Wishes 
the union of the good of all countries — American Puritans — Miss 
Aikin's translation of " Life of Zwinglius" 32 

To Dr. Channing, June 12. Mr. and Mrs. Ware— Her sympathy 
with Americans — Zwingle — Fenelon — Doctrine of Original Sin — 
Charles Butler's " Life of Fenelon" 33 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 2. Religious faith — Hallam's " Constitutional 
History" — High-church — Toryism , 36 

To Dr. Channing, Oct. 8. Hallam — Toryism — High -church — Lord 
Eliot — Lady Fanshaw — Kantianism — Suspected Unitarianism at 
Oxford 38 

To Miss Aikin, Dec. 31. Popery —Dr. Whately — Metaphysics — 
" Essays on the Formation of Opinion" and on "Pursuit of Truth" 42 

1830. 

To Dr. Channing, June 1. Remarks on Dr. C. in the "Edinburgh 
Review" — William Hazlitt — Metaphysics — Mr. Benson — Mr. Bailey, 
of Sheffield — James Montgomery 44 

To Dr. Channing, June 7. Mr. Goodhue — Mrs. Joanna Baillie — 
Professor Smyth — Mr. Whishaw — Mr. Richmond — English society 
— Dr. C.'s " Means and Ends of a National Literature" — Rev. Mr. 
Somerville — Mrs. Somerville — Mr. Rogers 47 

To Miss Aikin, Oct. 21. French Revolution of 1830 — Reception of 
that event in England — Walpole's Letters — William Burns 51 



CONTENTS. 



xiii 



PAGE 



To Dr. Chaining, Dec. 14. W. Burns — Revolutions on the Continent 
— State of England — Jefferson's " Correspondence" — Sir J. Mackin- 
tosh — Lord Brougham — Religion in France — Horace Walpole 55 

1831. 

To Miss Aikin, Mar. 4. West Indies—Miss Emily Taylor— State of 
England — Southey — Brougham — " Edinburgh Review" 60 

To Dr. Channing, May 1. Miss Taylor— Reform Bill— The King— 
"Life of Dr. Currie" — Berkeley — Price — Priestley — France— Lord 
J. Russell — Wordsworth 64 

To Miss Aikin, June 22. Return to Boston— Beauty of the Tropics 
— Reform Bill 70 

To Dr. Channing, June 28. Reform — Mr. Beverley — Marquis of 
Londonderry — Rammohun Roy — Godwin's "Thoughts on Man" — 
Paul Louis Courier — Belief in a future state — M. Vincent — Millena- 
rians 74 

To Miss Aikin, July 14. Introducing Mrs. Farrar — Price — Priestley 
—Dr. Win. King, of Brighton 80 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 27. Elective franchise — Slavery — English 
Church reform — No mention of priest in New Testament — Godwin 
— Belief in a future state — Reception of his writings in France — 
Miss Mitford 82 

To Dr. Channing, Sept. 6. Rammohun Roy — Dr. Poott — Mrs. 
Joanna Baillie — Classes in England — Mr. Pitt — Hannah More — 
Visiting the poor — West Indies — South coast of England — Proposed 
journey into Kent — King opens New London Bridge — Old Bridge... 86 

To Dr. Changing, Oct. 23. Priestley — Mr. A. Aikin — Doctrine of 
Necessity — Dr. King — Miss Mitford — Disappointed of Kentish jour- 
ney — Rejection of Reform Bill — Slavery — Bishop Hohart — Mr. 
Whishaw — Religion m France — English Bishops 92 

To Miss Aikin, Nov. 20. Rejection of Reform Bill — Aristocracy — 
Sir James Mackintosh — " History of England" — Visiting the poor — 
Godwin 99 

To Dr. Channing, Dec. 8. Gratitude for effect of his writings — 
Approach of cholera — Spirit of aristocracy — Church patronage — 
State of religion in Italy — Rammohun Roy — Dr. Wallich — Mrs. 
Farrar , . 104 

To Miss Aikin, Dec. 29. Dr. Priestley— Condition of England- 
Slavery —Reform and Revolution , 110 

a 2 



xiv 



CONTENTS. 



1832. PAGE 



To Dr. Channing, Feb. 22. Condition of the poorer classes in En- 
gland — Reform Bill — Difference between French and English mobs 
— Gibbon Wakefield — Mr. Pitt— Pauperism — Missions to the poor 
— Cholera — Priestley — Sir J. Mackintosh's "Essay" — Mr. Rees — 
Sismondi's Italian Republics — Ireland — The Farrars 114 

To Miss Aikin, Feb. 23. Remarks on the moral and religious state 
of society — House of Lords and the Reform Bill — Improvement in 
France — Centennial anniversary of Washington — His character 122 

To Dr. Chaining, April 7. Effects of his writings on women — 
Joanna Baillie — Mrs. Somerville — Mrs. Marcet — Mrs. E. Romilly — 
Madame De la Rive — Condition and rights of women — France — 
Italy 125 

To Miss Aikin, June 9. Weak health — Longing for a better climate 
— Return of the Farrars — Visiting the poor — Sir J. Mackintosh — 
Thanks for his book — Second reading of Reform Bill in the House 
of Lords — "Foreign Quarterly" • 131 

To Dr. Channing, July 15. R-ecovered health— Passing of Reform 
Bill — "Penny Magazine" — Acting beneficially on the poor — Death 
of Sir J. Mackintosh — Hartley's system — Sir J. Eliot — Hampden — 
Spirit of aristocracy — Pride of birth — "Life of Wiclif," by Le Bas 
— Theological library 136 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 26. Cholera in Boston — Good regulations — 
English climate, a strong inducement to visit it — -Reform Bill — 
Aristocracy — Bishops — Pride of birth 142 

To Dr. Channing, Oct. 15. Asks advice for a subject for a future 
work — Miss Martineau — Dr. Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich — Sydney 
Smith — Baron Mazeres — Cholera — Translation of Hindoo Veds — 
Bryant 146 

To Dr. Channing, Nov. 19. Alarmed for his health — Entreats him 
to come to England — Lord Denman — His obligations to Mrs. Bar- 
bauld — Hallam — Possible war with Holland — Miss Martineau 152 

1833. 

To Miss Aikin, Jan. 3. State of health— Le Bas' "Life of Wiclif"— 
Scott's novels — Sir J. Mackintosh — Dr. Spurzheim — Miss Martineau 
— Threatening of civil war 156 

To Miss Aikin, Jan. 12. Thanks for her interest in his illness — 
Bryant — American politics 160 



CONTENTS. 



XV 



PAGE 

To Dr. Changing, Feb. 10. London University school — Hampstead 
— Sir James Mackintosh — Robert Hall — Macaulay's article on Lord 
Mahon's History — Ireland — "Useful Knowledge" and " Penny 
Magazine" — Mr. Tagart's "Life of Captain Heywood" — English 
reprint of Dr. C.'s book — Spurzheim — Miss Martineau — Joanna 
Baillie— Byron— Scott 163 

To Miss Aikin, May 30. East wind at Boston — Reform — Ireland — 
Slavery — North and South— Haughtiness of England — Captain Basil 
Hall— Miss Martineau' s " Tales" 169 

To Dr. Chaining, June 13. Completion of " History of Charles I." 
— His sermons on " Self-denial " and "Immortality of Man" — Mr. 
Roscoe's Life — James Montgomery — Review of Miss Martineau in 
"Edinburgh" and "Quarterly" Reviews — Proposed review of Miss 
Aikin in " Edinburgh" — Duke of Wellington — House of Lords- 
Improvement in London— Brrtfsh Museum 173 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 30. Congratulations on the completion of her 
work — His own works — Mr. Roscoe — Abolition of slavery in En- 
gland — Sismondi sends "Silvio Pellico" — Mrs. Jameson's " Charac- 
teristics of Women" 179 

To Dr. Channing, Oct. 23. Review of Roscoe's Life, by Miss A. — 
Dr. Tuckerman — Rammohun Roy — Journey to Sandgate — Henry 
Bulwer Lytton's "England and the English" — Aristocracy — Robert 
Hall— Paris— Mr. Phillips— Dr. Tuckerman 183 

To Miss Aikin, Dec. 28. Thanks for her work, "Charles I." — Re- 
marks on it — Rammohun Roy — Woman — Henry Bulwer Lytton — 
Slave emancipation — Dumont's " Life of Bentham" 190 

1834. 

To Dr. Channing, Feb. 2. Charles I. --Plans for future writing — 
Slavery — William Smith — Dr. Lushington — Rammohun Roy — Ben- 
tham — State of literature — Politics of England — Dr. Tuckerman... 194 

To Miss Aikin, April. Proposes a subject for work — "Quarterly 
Review " — Bulwer's ' ' England " — Guizot — Gibbon — Milman — 
"Grodolphin" — Condition of England, also of United States 201 

To Miss Aikin, May 5. State of religion in England — Expected visit 
of Miss Martineau — American society — Women in Hindostan 204 

To Dr. Channing, May 29. Dr. Tuckerman— Mr. Phillips— Mr. (Dr.) 
Dewey — " Grodolphin" — Condition of society — Church reform — Sis- 
mondi— Mrs. (Lady) Coltman 209 



xvi 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

To Dr. Channing, June 19. Similarity of manners in descendants 
of Presbyterians in United States and in England — Religion in 
England — Politics — Diffusion of literature — Anecdote in illustration 
—Archbishop Whately 216 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. Proposes to her to write essays — Aristocracy 
in England — Trades' unions — Bryant — Names of parties in America 222 

To Dr. Channing, Oct. 19. Spirit of aristocracy — Trades' unions — 
The Church — Histories of England — Hume — L ngard — Dr. Andrews 
—Turner — Bryant — Coleridge — Burning of the Houses of Parliament 227 

1835. 

To Miss Aikin, Jan. 5. State of health — Bulwer's novels — Henry 
Taylor — Philip Van Artevelde — Form of dialogue recommended — 
Style — Lake poets — C. Lamb— Byron — Tory ministry — Prospects 
of religion in England — Wishes to make inquiries in Dorsetshire 
about his family . 233 

To Dr. Chaining, Mar. 10. Removing to another house — Improved 
prospect — Duke of Sussex — Rev. Joseph Hunter — Pedigree of Chan- 
nings — Pedigree of Queen Elizabeth — English style — Southey — 
Lamb — Van Artevelde — Henry Taylor— Politics — Lord Brougham — 
Dr. Tuckerman 237 

To Da. Channing, May 13. Change of ministry — Wordsworth's 
poems — James Montgomery's poems — Thanks for sermon on i( War" 
— Channing family 244 

To Miss Aikin, June 22. House-building — Influence of beautiful 
scenery — Duke of Sussex — Van Artevelde — English politics— Social 
condition of America '. 247 

To Dr. Channing, Sept. 13. Removing, not building — Remarks 
occasioned by his last letter — Orange association — Duke of Cumber- 
land — 111 health — Low spirits — Hopeless illness of dear young friend 
— Beneficial influence on her of Dr. Channing's views — " Mackin- 
tosh's Memoirs"— Coleridge's " Table-Talk" 253 

1836. 

To Dr. Channing, Jan. 17. Joanna Baillie's dramas— State of the 
poor improving — Fire at New York — Severe winter 259 

To Miss Aikin, Mar. 12. Excuses for silence— Great prosperity of 
America — Mrs. J. Baillie — Miss Martineau — " Cours de Droit 
Naturel," by Jouffroy — Peace and war 263 

To Miss Aikin, May 10. Miss Martineau— Mrs. Trollope's " Paris" 
— State of France — Society in Paris 266 



CONTENTS. 



xvii 



PAGK 

To Dr. Chaining, June 12. Miss Martineau — Yon Raumer's "En- 
gland"— Germany— Rev. W. H. Channing— 111 health— Hartley ... 269 

To Miss Aikin, Nov. 21. Thoughts in sickness — Alleviations — Spirit 
of trade, in France, in America — Lamartine — English Church — 
Election of President 273 



To Dr. Channing, Dec. 10. Ireland — Coleridge's "Literary Re- 
mains" — Miss Martineau — Miss Tuckerman — Tasso — Don Quixote 276 

1837. 

To Dr. Channing, Feb. 12. Thanks for letter and sermon — Dr. 
Hopkins — English Church — Mr. Gannett — Prior's "Life of Gold- 
smith" — French novels — Influenza 281 

To Miss Aikin, April 1. Pleasure in her improved health — His own 
state — German literature — Goldsmith and Addison's style — Mr. 
Norton's " Genuineness of the Gospels" 287 



To Dr. Channing, April 23. Influenza — Greenacre's murder — Hu- 
manity of English mobs — Sermon of Dr. Channing's preached in 
Hampstead church — Power and privilege of a good pastor — Com- 
parison of the effects of reading and writing — Public affairs — Bishop 
of Norwich (Bathurst) — Lockhart's "Life of Scott'' — Character — ■ 
Effect upon literature by diffusion of knowledge and mechanics' in- 
stitute — Young ladies — Duke of Sussex wishes for Dr. Channing's 



last sermon ' 290 

To Miss Aikin, Sept. 8. Duke of -Sussex — Admiration of English 
country-houses — Miss Martineau — Remarks on good temper, in En- 
gland and in America — Sir W. Scott — Politics — Means of preserving 
health 296 

To Dr. Channing, Oct. 14. Miss Martineau — Female suffrage — 
English tempers — Duke of Sussex — Aristocracy— Titles — Religious 
movement — Lord Melbourne — Power of the Queen — State of country 
—Defence of Miss Martineau— Mr. Hallam , 299 

1838. 

To Miss Aikin, Feb. 7. Asks opinion of Miller's "Philosophy of 
History" — Of Alison's "French Revolution" — Carlyle's "History" 
— Doubts her assertion of English humanity — " History of Ferdinand 
and Isabella" — Bancroft's ' ' History of America" — Holy and wholly ^ 
how pronounced in England 303 



XV111 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

To Dr. Changing, April 18. Complication with Canada — English 
humanity — Laws regarding women — State of women — Influence of 
the clergy on them — Carlyle — " Miller" and ''Alison 1 ' — Holy and 



wholly — Equality of mankind impossible — Thanks for "Tempe- 
rance' 1 * and " Texas" 805 

To Dr. Channing, July 16. Rev. Mr. Gannett — The Queen — 
Thoughts of new work — Addison — Biography of "Wilberforce, of 
Hannah More — Remarks on coronation 313 

To Miss Aikin, Aug. 24. Coronation — Loyalty — Aristocracy — Addi- 
son— Style— Visit to Mr. Wilberforce 317 

To Dr. Channing, Nov. 16. Prescott's " Ferdinand and Isabella" — 
English style — Scotch style — Blair — Robertson — Hume — Burns — 
Walter Scott — Charles Lamb — Dryden — Cowley — Addison — Defence 
of the aristocracy 320 

1839. 

To Miss Aikin, Jan. 15. Aristocracy — Literary society in London — 
New sect at Oxford — Dr. Malt by. Bishop of Durham — Mr. Prescott 325 

To Miss Aikin, Feb. 1837 (misplaced). Her ill health — Coleridge's 
"Remains" — Don Quixote — Coleridge's invectives against Unita- 
rians 328 



To Dr. Channing, Mar. 23. Dr. Pusey — Dr. Hampden — Origin and 
progress of High -church views — Bishop of Durham (Dr. Malt by) — 
The Unitarian sect — Society — Inequality of property — Thanks for 
address to the Franklin Society — Criticism — Bishop of London's 
society for education under Church control — Collecting materials for 



"Life of Addison" 331 

To Miss Aikin, April 28. Delight in spring — English Platonists — 
Hallam's " Literature of Middle Ages" — Luther 337 

To Miss Aikin, May 10. Sends tracts on "Slavery" and "War" — 
Evils of slavery — English Church — Rumours of war between England 
and America — Powell on " Tradition" — " Guesses at Truth" — 
"Quarterly Review" — Lord Brougham's review of Channing in the 
"Edinburgh" 340 

To Dr. Channing, June 19. Severe illness — Resignation — Criticisms 
on "War" and "Slavery" — Her views on war — Utilitarian philo- 
sophy — Whewell and Sedgwick on Paley — Activity of the clergy — 
Theological literature — Luther s "Table-Talk" — Mr. Rogers — Fine 
passage in "Texas" 345 

To Miss Aikin, Sept. 11. Congratulations' on her recovery — His love 
of life — Present happiness— Retrospect of life — Lord Brougham . . . 350 



CONTENTS. 



xix 



1840. page 
To Dr. Chassisg, Mar. 2. Letter lost at post-ofiice — Penny post — 
Good effects — National education — Consequences of Reform Bill — 



Peaceable adjustment of dispute between England and America — 
Professor Smyth's lectures on " Modem History" — Precarious state 
of her brother — The Farrars 353 

To Dr. Chassisg, May 16. Thanks for new works — Visiting the 
poor — Friend's remarks on his sermon — G-oodness of Providence — 
Recovery of her brother — "Life of Sir Samuel Romilly" — The 
Puseyites — Church-rates — Body of Napoleon brought to Paris — Sta- 
bility of the ministry — O'Connell 357 

To Miss Aikis, July 18. Reply to her friend's criticism — A passage 
in his sermon on Dr. Follen — Anxiety to finish a work in hand — 
Remarks on her last letter — Professor Smyth — Character of Isabella 
of Castile — Caiiyle — "Transcendental school" — Inspiration of 
Christ 363 

To Dr. Chassisg, Oct. 11. Friend's apology — Goodness of Cod — 
Carlyle — Mysticism — National education — Strength of the Liberal 
ministry — Isabella of Castile — Banke's " History of the Popes" — 
Wishes to know the subject of his proposed work — Visit to a friend 
near Southampton — New Forest — Review of Carlyle in the " Quar- 
terly" 368 

1841. 

To Miss Aikin, Jan. 1. English victory in Syria — Chinese war — 
Remarks on war — Thinks her too severe on Carlyle — Mysticism ... 374 

To Dr. Chassisg, Feb. 7. "Emancipation" — Slave-grown sugar — ■ 
India — Peace and war — Milman's "'History of Christianity'' — 
Speculations on the origin of man — Professor Smyth's "Lectures" 
— Mr. Whishaw — Miss Strickland's " Queens of England" 376 

To Miss AiKifr, April 14. Thanks for letters — Languid health — Free- 
trade — Origin of the human race — Rumours of war 382 

To Dr. Chassisg, June 12. Free-trade — Corn-laws — Despondent 
feelings on the state of the country as to religious freedom — Origin 
of man — Carlyle — France — Tory ministry 385 

To Dr. Chassixg, June 30. Thanks for "Memoirs of Dr. Tucker- 
man" — Lancaster — Bell — Lord Brougham — National education — • 
Visiting the poor 389 

To Miss Aikin, July 10. English Church and Dissent— Wesley 400 

To Dr. Chasxixg, Aug. 6. Answer to preceding — Remarks on 
"Address on Home Mission Report" — Dissent — Progress of the race 404 



XX 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

To Miss Aikin, Dec. 15. His illness — Unable to answer her last 
letter — Milman's "History of Christianity" — English Church — Miss 
Mitford's " Village"— " Charles O'Malley" 408 

1842. 

To Dr. Channing, Jan. 10. Acknowledges a sermon — Dr. Milman — 
Visit to Bath — Addison — Miss Sedgwick — German literature — Wil- 
liam Taylor — Mrs. Austin — State of England — Her colonies — Mrs. 
Carter's " Dialogue between Body and Soul" 411 

To Miss Aikin, June 12. His illness through the winter — Pleasure 
in beautiful country in sickness — Miss Sedgwick — Beauty of Ame- 
rican women — Superiority to English women 417 

To Dr. Channing, Aug. 9. English and American women — Thanks 
for " Duty of the Free States"— " Life of Oliver Heywood" — Mr. 
Savage — Addison — Unpublished letters of his time.. 420 



1> 



CORRESPONDENCE, 



To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, July 9, 1826. 

I fear, Sir, I must have appeared negligent and un- 
grateful in not sooner returning you my thanks for a 
copy of your excellent remarks on the character and 
writings of Milton ; but since I received them, which is 
about a fortnight, this is my first opportunity of writing. 
Accept my most cordial acknowledgments of the justice 
and honour you have done to that great and injured 
character — that true servant of God, that sublime teacher 
of the noblest truths to man. 

From my earliest youth I have been an assiduous and 
reverential student of his poetical works, that inestimable 
storehouse of instruction and delight, that fount of in- 
spiration ; lately I have re-perused them with a more 
direct reference to the circumstances of the times and 
the character and situation of the author, and I am thus 
enabled to give my deliberate testimony to the sound- 
ness, and at the same time the novelty and originality, of 
your observations. In a short fragment of observations 
on Milton, which I found among Mrs. Barbauld's papers, 
was an expression of surprise that his ardent attachment 

B 



2 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



to liberty so seldom breaks forth in his verse ; but your 
remark that it was principally the freedom of the mind 
to which he paid homage, well explains this circum- 
stance. He deeply felt that " who loves that must first 
be wise and good/' and to make men so, he accounted 
the first and most important service to be rendered them. 
What you say of the futility of looking back to the 
Primitive Church for authority, is excellent, and so far' 
as I know, entirely new; the notion of a progressive 
Christianity is very strikingly expressed, I remember, 
in that pamphlet of Mr. Wakefield's on Public Worship, 
which I think was considerably misconceived by my 
aunt, and therefore misrepresented in her answer. It is 
manifest that Christianity can only be permanent for 
the future, has only been so through past ages, by 
silently adapting itself to the manners and sentiments 
of different times and countries; even the Church of 
Eome is far from being now what it was in the tenth 
century. I was surprised on first looking into the Puri- 
tanical writers, particularly Prynne, to find how much 
he relied on the authority of the Fathers, and even of 
some of the early Popes ; and I inquired how and when 
it was that those writers had lost their authority with 
modern English theologians, even those of High-church 
principles ; an intelligent friend answered me, " Ever since 
Middleton gave them an incurable wound." On this 
subject Milton did not advance beyond his age. You 
have certainly not given Johnson more reprehension 
than he richly deserved for his outrages against one so 
inestimably his superior. My dear father made many 
efforts to counteract the effects of his prejudice and 
bigotry in this and many other instances ; he was once 
engaged in the office of re-editing J ohnson's Poets, with 
corrections and additions, and I always regretted that 
the failure of a bookseller interrupted this design ; he 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



3 



published Milton, however, with some spirited remarks 
on his former editor. In this country, where Tory and 
High-church principles are still lamentably prevalent, 
it is impossible to estimate the mischief, as I should call 
it, which Johnson has effected, by lending the sanction 
of his authority to popular prejudices. I know no other 
example of powers so vigorous, self-devoted to the 
drudgery of forging chains and riveting fetters on the 
human mind. 

The great questions on Liberty and Necessity, Matter 
and Spirit, have evidently much employed your thoughts, 
and I cannot but wish that they may employ your pen ; 
the first especially is a theme of vital interest, and one 
on which there is the strangest contrariety between the 
results of our reasoning, and in some degree of our 
experience — for we witness the apparently irresistible 
sway of external motives in many instances — and a 
certain internal conviction which ought perhaps to be 
of still higher authority with us. I recollect that when 
I had the pleasure of seeing you at isewington, we spoke 
of the neglect into which metaphysical science had 
fallen among us, and certainly very little appears to be 
written on these subjects; nevertheless, they must always, 
I conceive, occupy a portion of the meditations of every 
inquiring mind, and I believe it will always be in the 
power of an original and able writer on them to attract 
considerable attention. The general progress of light 
and knowledge, too, reflects in various ways upon these 
pursuits, and makes it right that the standard works 
should at least be from time to time re-examined; it 
appears to me that Locke himself requires modernizing 
in several parts of his subject. Your glimpses of the 
advancement of the human mind are wonderfully cheer- 
ing and animating, and who shall presume, even in 
thought, to set limits to its high career in a land where 

b 2 



4 



TO MISS AIKIN". 



you already possess that prime boon which the learned 
and enlightened Selden vainly sighed for, " freedom in 
everything " ? Here it may still be the work of ages to 
liberate the mind from bondage, for that great engine of 
civil and intellectual tyranny, a State religion, stands, 
and is likely to stand ; but with you liberty is its birth- 
right. It ought to be a cause of thanksgiving to every 
lover of man and his best interest to think that there is 
in the world such a temple of freedom erected. May 
God prosper it ! 

Believe me, Sir, with high esteem, 

Very sincerely yours, 

Lucy Aikin. 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, February 27, 1827. 

I owe you many thanks for your repeated attentions, 
although I must seem to you anything but grateful. 
Your letter acknowledging the reception of my " Eemarks 
on Milton" was peculiarly gratifying to me. There was 
one passage in it which you probably wrote without 
thinking of the pleasure I was to derive from it. I refer 
to that in Avhich you give your " testimony to the sound- 
ness of my remarks." Truth, I hope, is supremely dear 
to me; and I had been disturbed by occasional appre- 
hensions lest my admiration of the man, joined with 
my distance from his age and country, had betrayed me 
into some false views. Your testimony gave me relief. 
I trust that you will give to the world the results of 
your researches into the age of Milton. 

But let me turn from myself. I thank you, as thou- 
sands have done, for your tribute to the memory of 
Mrs. Barbauld, and I am peculiarly indebted to you for 



TO MISS AIKEN". 



•5 



the present of her works. I can remember Mrs. Bar- 
bauld's poetry from early life, and I owe to her more 
than delight. Some of her pieces; we may suppose, she 
will recollect for ever with pleasure, for they have lifted 
many minds to that pure world in which she has found 
rest. Much of the prose volume was new to me, and I 
felt that she had not received the praise due to her in 
this species of composition. I was struck with the felicity 
of the style, and the freshness and animation, and fre- 
quently the originality, of her thoughts. I remember 
my short interview with her with much pleasure. Perhaps 
I never saw a person of her age who had preserved so 
much of youth; on whom time had laid so gentle a 
hand. Her countenance had nothing of the rigidity and 
hard lines of advanced life, but responded to the mind 
like a young woman's. I carry it with me as one of 
the treasures of memory. 

I am happy to learn that you correspond with my 
friend Miss Sedgwick. She is the delight of those who 
best know her. I am very desirous that the intercourse 
between the intellectual of our two countries should be 
increased. England is hardly just as yet to the American 
mind, and I grieve for this, not because I want you to 
natter us, but because the two great free nations of the 
world, on whom the cause of human improvement chiefly 
rests, ought to be joined by sympathy and mutual inte- 
rest and respect. It will always give me great pleasure 
to hear from you ; and if I can in any way serve you, I 
beg you to write to me as to a friend. 

Very respectfully your friend, 

W. E. Chaxnixg. 



6 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, May 1, 1827. 

I have many acknowledgments to return you, Sir, for 
a letter so truly acceptable to me, in various respects, 
as that with which you have favoured me. Since its 
date I have also received from you a dedication sermon, 
which I have read and re-read with increasing admira- 
tion and satisfaction. Of all the products of my aunt 
Barbauld's fine genius, which you have commemorated 
in a manner most gratifying to my feelings, there is none 
which during my whole life I have prized so highly as 
her "Hymns for Children," by which, with the most 
delightful allurements of style, the infant mind is insen- 
sibly led to look up through all which it beholds, whether 
of animated or inanimate, physical or moral nature, to 
the infinitely wise and beneficent Cause of all. To a 
spirit early and deeply imbued with this general religion, 
particular systems have something of low and narrow, 
from which it recoils with a sense of disappointment or 
disgust, ready to ask, like Lucan's Cato at the Temple 
of Jupiter Ammon, whether the universal deity, 

Steriles ne elegit arenas, 
Ut caneret paucis, mersitque hoc pulvere veruni ? 

But such spirits your views of Unitarianism are well 
calculated to conciliate, by showing it in strong and 
lovely contrast to those systems which you well describe 
as " shut up in a few texts," and insulated alike from 
all which nature teaches of a God, and from all the lights 
which the cultivated intellect is now deriving from 
reason and philosophy. 

Your remarks on the influence of Trinitarianism in 
" shutting the mind against improving views from the 
universe," open up a long train of interesting reflections, 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



7 



which I should he glad to see you pursue much further. 
It has often grieved me to observe how extensively this 
popular system of theology operates to degrade and dis- 
tort men's moral sentiments and their views of human 
life. Certainly the deity of that system is not good ; he 
is jealous of that love of happiness which he has himself 
implanted in the human bosom instinctively, and hence 
endless contrarieties between the language of its fol- 
lowers and their feelings — between their system and 
their intimate convictions. Men are supposed to be 
called upon, not in time of persecution alone, but uni- 
versally, to choose between this world and another, to 
renounce the enjoyments of the present life, and to 
count sorrows and privations as the only wholesome 
food of souls. But this is hard doctrine, and its most 
obvious effect is to prompt a very offensive species of 
^anting, which prevails at present in this country to such 
a degree as to afflict and perplex all who are inclined to 
hope well of the progress of human improvement. To 
him who regards the Deity as truly one, and unchange- 
able through all ages, there is no such contrariety — this 
world, the present life, are parts of God's space and God's 
time ; His goodness is here, and will be everywhere for 
ever ; and He has not written one thing on man's heart, 
and another in a book of laws for his guidance. 

Pray go on to give us more of the products of your 
acute, enlightened and pious mind, and your most elo- 
quent and masterly pen. Bear in mind that you are 
writing for England as much as for America. The fifth 
edition of your discourse on the ordination of Mr. Sparks, 
printed at Liverpool, a Liverpool edition of your "Duties 
of Children," and a Bristol one of your " Discourse on 
the Evidences," all lie before me. Your remarks on 
Milton, and this last discourse, have also been reprinted, 
and so will everything be that you write ; but if you 



8 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



would give us a volume, it would draw more attention 
and produce more effect than many tracts, because it 
would be noticed in reviews, circulated in book societies, 
and displayed on library shelves. Oh ! that you would 
give us a system of morals according to your own views ; 
this would be a treasure to the present and following 
generations. In your noble country, where all faiths 
stand on equal ground, you write both without the fears 
and without the exasperation of a sect struggling to 
erect itself beneath the frown of an imperious Establish- 
ment, a circumstance which gives you a superiority here 
more felt than expressed. I find in it an additional 
reason for joining you in the wish that the intellectual 
intercourse of our two countries should be continually 
extended, and that the utmost cordiality of feeling should 
exist between the friends of light and knowledge in 
both. I rejoice to hear of all your advances, and inquire 
eagerly after all your literary novelties, and so do many 
of my friends ; and now that our administration has 
happily ceased to be Tory, it will be less than it has been 
a fashion to undervalue your efforts. My New York 
correspondent is not Miss Sedgwick, but her very intel- 
ligent brother, Mr. H. D. Sedgwick ; but I imagine that 
writing to either is writing to both. Nothing will give 
me more gratification than to hear from you as often as 
your important avocations will admit. The state of 
America is a peculiarly interesting subject to many of 
my friends, and one on which it is difficult here to gain 
authentic information : we want to hear towards what 
form of religious sentiment your people most incline, 
and whether the absence of an Establishment leaves in 
fact any considerable number destitute of religious wor- 
ship — in short, how this great experiment turns out. 
Believe me yours, with great esteem, 

Lucy Aikin. 



TO MISS AIKIK. 



3 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, November 1, 1827. 

Your letter of May last, my dear Miss Aikin, gave 
me great pleasure, peculiar pleasure. Your favourable 
opinion of the sermon I sent you was the more welcome, 
because that production has drawn upon me more angry 
criticism than anything I have published. Your remarks, 
and many other circumstances, show me that it is accom- 
plishing its end. I feel very deeply how much religion 
is obstructed by low and false views of it, and if I can 
remove them in any degree, I shall think myself living 
for some purpose. The religious principle is, without 
doubt, the noblest tendency of our minds. Its office is 
to connect us with the Supreme Mind, and I do mourn 
when I see it, as I often see it, perverted by wrong con- 
ceptions of its Object, breaking the spirit, and making 
men abject in speech and conduct. I do not know how 
greater good can be done than by showing men the 
sublime purpose for which the capacity of religion was 
given ; how it accords with reason and conscience ; how 
it strengthens, in particular, the loftier principles and 
virtues, and gives the mind an impulse towards perfec- 
tion. I want that the subject should be taken out of 
the hands of the canting, who have disgusted you so 
much. How is it that men of intellect and sensibility 
should give up the noblest subject in the universe to 
technical theologians, who are degrading it by their 
narrow and mechanical mode of handling it ? It some- 
times amazes me that Eeligion, the science which treats 
of our highest relations and of the ultimate purpose of 
our being, should have fallen into disrepute; that it 
should be suffered to be the property of the clerical 
profession; and that the noblest minds should either 

B 3 



10 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



not think of it, or should satisfy themselves with the 
tame conceptions of their inferiors. I know no subject 
of such universal interest, so little technical and positive, 
so worthy of vigorous and enlarged minds; and until 
such minds regard it as their noblest province, and resist 
the usurpations of those who now make it a monopoly, 
I despair of any great progress of society in that class 
of thoughts, feelings and virtues, which constitutes the 
elevation of our nature. 

You are anxious to know something about the state 
of religious opinion here ; how the current sets ; how we 
get on without a religious Establishment. We agree a 
good deal with England. 

There is with us, as with you, a degree of combination 
among the sects who hold the antiquated theology 
against the spirit of improvement. Perhaps one pecu- 
liarity of our country is, that these sects are striving 
to withstand the progress of better opinions by what 
are called revivals, by which you are to understand 
unusual excitements, seizing at once on a considerable 
portion of a congregation, produced chiefly by terror and 
by a machinery too complicated to be described in a 
short letter, but which are ascribed to a special operation 
of the Spirit of God. I may be able to send you a 
printed account of them soon from an impartial hand. 
I have much to say about our religious establishment 
or no-establishment. The subject can hardly be under- 
stood in your country — and here a wise man will speak 
cautiously. One thing we have found, that the absence 
of an Establishment is not synonymous with freedom, 
and that everywhere men must contend for their rights, 
if they would keep them. 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Channing. 
What is the authority of Lingard's England ? 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



i 

11 



To Miss Aikdt. 

Boston, December 13, 1827. 

Will you permit me, my dear Miss Aikin, to introduce 
to you a friend of mine, Mr. Sparks, a gentleman who 
holds a conspicuous place in our literature, and who has 
many claims on the enlightened and good of all coun- 
tries. 

He is the editor of the "North American Keview," a 
work which we think must have made our intellectual 
resources better known to England. He visits your 
country to get materials for an important historical work. 
I hope you will see him long enough to get at his mind, 
for he has some reserve. You have much curiosity about 
our country. I know no man who can give you equal 
information. He will give you his opinion on the ques- 
tion which you have asked me more than once, how we 
succeed without a Church Establishment. On this point 
I have deferred writing you, because a great deal is to 
be said. The danger which was apprehended from our 
experiment, that we should have no religious instruc- 
tion, proves so far wholly imaginary. We have as much 
teaching as other countries, and all who make the com- 
parison think we have better. But the great question, 
which is, how far intellectual liberty is promoted by it, 
is not so easily settled. Everywhere the sovereign is 
worshipped, and in countries where the people is the 
sovereign, this worship is not wanting. The love of 
place, office, consideration, is at work, and seeks grati- 
fication by flattering or not resisting popular notions. 
Independence of thought is a rare attribute anywhere. 
Here, as elsewhere, men of like views herd together, and 
love to rule by the authority of numbers ; and not a 
few, mistaking the joint cry of a multitude for the strong, 



12 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



confiding tone of truth, give up their judgments to the 
majority. Sects, too, do not cease to be intolerant 
because formed in republics. I merely throw out these 
remarks in the hope of extending them. It is the ordi- 
nance of God that man is to be free in the true sense 
of that word — not through his outward condition, but 
through his own moral energy ; he must fight for it, and 
win the blessing for himself. When is your work on 
Charles I. to appear ? I look forward to it with antici- 
pation of much pleasure and instruction. Your former 
works of this nature have given me a better insight into 
the times of which you treat than I had gained before 
from the historians. You know undoubtedly the delicacy 
of your task. I can hardly lay aside my professional 
tone, and refrain from exhorting you to be impartial. 
Liberty is not responsible for the faults and crimes of 
her adherents in former times, nor are we serving her 
by throwing their gross errors into the shade, or by the 
least injustice to her foes. 

Very respectfully, your friend, 

W. E. Channing. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, April 27, 1828. 

I beg to introduce to you, clear Miss Aikin, a friend 
of mine, who desires to know you, and whom I am 
equally desirous that you should know. It is Mr. Norton, 
of Cambridge, one of the professors of theology at 
that institution. He is one of our most distinguished 
scholars and writers, a man of taste and general know- 
ledge, and a strong thinker. His lady, who accompanies 
him, is one of our most valued women. Her intelligence 
and virtues make her the delight of her friends. I am 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



13 



truly happy when I can bring the good and wise of our 
two countries to know one another. In a late letter by 
Mr. Sparks, I asked your opinion of Lingard's History 
of England. I am reading his account of the Eeforma- 
tion in that country. Is it not as impartial as the Pro- 
testant accounts ? Nothing surprises me in that business 
so much as the ease with which Henry accomplished 
his purpose. I think it not very creditable to the En- 
glish character. I would ask if history furnishes an 
example of a people receiving fundamental changes in 
their religion with so little resistance ? I know not 
how Lingard could have passed a severer rebuke on the 
Catholic Church in England than by recording, as he 
does, the almost unresisting submission of ail orders, 
clergy and laity, to the subversion of the old system. 
The scarcity of illustrious martyrs under Henry shows 
a very rotten state of the Church. More and Fisher 
were victims to the suspicious cruelty of the King, and 
not to their own courageous assertion of what they 
thought truth. They would willingly have held their 
peace. The French clergy in the late revolution, whom 
we thought so corrupt, did far better. One would have 
thought that rather than substitute a temporal for a 
spiritual head, and submit to excision from the only true 
and apostolic Church, the English Church, not to say 
people, would have taken any hazard of a struggle with 
the Crown. I want some explanation of this part of 
your history. It would seem as if the Catholic religion 
had taken a feebler hold of the English than of other 
nations, and yet your previous history does not indicate 
this. Is Lingard's view of Cranmer to be trusted ? Have 
you ever thought of giving us the memoirs of that 
period ? I am looking with much hope for the memoirs 
of Charles I. I have received much instruction and 
pleasure from your previous labours in this department, 



14 TO DR. CHANGING. 



and am somewhat impatient to know more of the secrets 
of the stormy time of Charles. 
I hope soon to hear from you. 

With respect, your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 

To Dr. Channing. 

Hampatead, May 28, 1828. 

Dear Sir, — A few days since I had the pleasure of re- 
ceiving your valued and interesting letter by Mr. Sparks. 
I had long been your debtor for that which accompanied 
your admirable remarks on Napoleon, and I am now 
impatient to avail myself of the recovered power of 
writing, to assure you that I am not ungrateful. I say 
the recovered power, because I have been struggling for 
many months with a state of weak and precarious health, 
which by compelling me to remain in a recumbent pos- 
ture, made the act of writing exceedingly troublesome 
and fatiguing. Though still much of an invalid, I am 
now considerably better, and my medical brother gives 
me at length assurance that I am proceeding, though 
slowly, towards complete recovery. This I had so little 
expected, that I have found some difficulty in returning 
to the interests of a life which I was fully prepared to 
quit: its cares and duties, clogged with a long arrear of 
neglected business, seemed to summon me almost rudely 
back from a state of languor which was not without its 
charms. In such a state, I have often repeated the line, 
" Eesigned to die, or resolute to live/' and thought the 
former much the easier part of the alternative ; it must 
now be my endeavour to brace my mind for the latter. 
I have a great task before me to fulfil, and I pray God 
I may so fulfil it as to prove my gratitude to Him for 
life and all its blessings. 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



15 



You will not wonder after this to hear that King 
Charles has been at a complete stand; yet I am not 
without doubts that the future work may have been 
gaining by an interval in which I have found oppor- 
tunity for some general reading in history, and much 
meditation. Everything imprints more and more deeply 
on my mind the importance of the great historic virtue 
which I thank you for exhorting me to — that of impar- 
tiality. Certainly, instead of doing a service to the great 
cause of liberty by veiling the errors of its champions, 
we do it in fact the greatest injury, especially where we 
have failures to relate ; for if the fault was not in the 
men, it seems a just conclusion that it must have been 
in the cause. On the other hand, by representing its 
opponents as worse men than they really were, we lighten 
arbitrary power itself of the reproaches justly its due, 
to discharge them on the vices accidentally adhering to 
its supporters. But certain principles have a tendency 
to produce certain effects, good or bad, on the minds 
and manners of their advocates ; and the chief utility 
of introducing biographical details largely into works of 
history is, that these tendencies may be impressed and 
illustrated by examples; that both the rule and the 
exceptions to it may be fully understood, and thence 
just inferences may be drawn regarding principles them- 
selves — and how can these just inferences, so important 
to virtue and happiness, be drawn from any but true 
premises ? 

You have done the world, I think, a great service, by 
your view of the character of Bonaparte, which appears 
to me a model of just and wise appreciation, and which 
has attracted with us much attention and applause. I 
lately recommended it to the perusal of an old lord, 
whose manly and rational mind seemed to me likely now 
to approve it ; though in his youth he had visited your 



16 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



land in the capacity of aide-de-camp to Clinton; clearly 
he entertained no prejudice against the nation of the 
writer. I believe — I fear, that as long as there is man, 
so long there will be war upon the earth ; and in war, 
as in ail human things, good is mingled with evil, and 
sometimes we seem to see that Providence has effected 
great and beneficial changes by its means, which no 
other means within our knowledge could have produced; 
but this is no reason why a conqueror should not be 
shown as what he truly is — a scourge of the earth. Your 
view of the character of this surprising man delighted 
me the more, because I found in it a very remarkable 
correspondence with the sentiments which my dear 
father was accustomed to express ; he, like you, regarded 
him as in most respects a man of vulgar mind, a mere 
soldier of fortune, and he expressed the same indignation 
against those who, calling themselves friends of freedom, 
yet ranked among his partizans. With respect to the 
style of your piece, I am almost afraid to express to you 
the extent of my admiration — but with what pleasure 
did I hear a literary friend, a few days since, decidedly 
pronouncing Dr. Channing the most eloquent living 
writer of the English language ! 

I am very much enlightened by what you say of reli- 
gious sentiment amongst you. Certainly the sovereign 
will be everywhere flattered and worshipped; and in 
these matters the sovereign people is not likely to be 
wiser than other sovereigns. My father used to say of 
the popular systems that they bid high for mankind, and 
I believe mankind must become a good deal wiser before 
Unitarianism will be able to outbid them in the minds 
of the multitude ; but certainly there is a progress in 
both countries : here it has lately been marked by the 
abolition of our Test laws, and you go on founding 
Unitarian churches. The celebrated political economist 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 



17 



Malthus, a clergyman, but a liberal — for he was brought 
up under my liberal grandfather at Warrington, and has 
always acted with our Whigs — slid into his pocket the 
other day my copy of your dedication sermon, saying, 
"It is a system which every good mind must wish to be 
true, but I think there are considerable difficulties from 
some of the texts." I have not yet had the opportunity 
of inquiring whether you have removed his difficulties. 

I thank you much for your introduction of Mr. Sparks. 
I have yet seen him only for half an hour, and that was 
chiefly occupied by my questions and his answers re- 
specting his objects of pursuit here. He has been ill- 
treated at our State Paper Office, through the illiberality 
or exclusive caution of Mr. Peel, and was hopeless of 
being allowed to take copies of papers which were at 
first promised him ; but I think means may yet be found, 
and I have set a friend to work, but without the know- 
ledge of Mr. Sparks. Xext week I hope he will meet 
at my tea-table the professor of modern history from 
Cambridge, Mr. Smyth, a very liberal and enlightened 
person, who will be happy, I know, in the opportunity 
of giving and receiving information ; and two other lite- 
rary friends, who will probably be able to assist his 
objects both here paid at Paris. 

I feel that I have written you an enormous letter, yet 
I think you will hear of me again before long. During 
my illness I have just been able to amuse myself with 
preparing a little lesson-book for children, most of which 
I had by me in pieces, written for my brother s young 
ones. Learning from Mr. Sparks that you have a little 
son, I shall venture to send you a copy, and with it a 
book for young people, which we have lately printed 
from a MS. of my father's. 

Believe me, dear Sir, yours, with true esteem, 

L. Atktn. 



18 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, June 12, 1828. 

Dear Sir, — I have now the pleasure of requesting your 
acceptance of my father's little book and my own, which 
I hope may be not unwelcome to the younger members 
of your family. How deeply do I feel myself indebted 
to you for your introduction of Mr. Sparks ! He is 
indeed a mine of information respecting everything which 
it is most interesting to learn of your great country ; and 
I am proud to tell you that he did us the favour to com- 
municate his knowledge and his sentiments with great 
freedom. His very looks bespeak goodness, and the more 
I conversed with him the more I was struck with the 
candour of his mind, as well as the strength of his judg- 
ment. I had the pleasure of introducing him to several 
literary friends, and all speak of him in terms of esteem 
and admiration. 

He promises to visit us again on his return from the 
continent, and I hope by that time he will find all the 
obstacles surmounted which have been opposed to his 
consulting our State papers. It is plain that historians 
of the War of Independence are much more likely to 
arise on your side of the water than on ours ; and those 
who are anxious that more than just blame should not 
be called on the measures of our Government, can do 
nothing so effectual as to promote the throwing open of 
all our documents to an American inclined to relate the 
facts with candour, and an endeavour at least at impar- 
tiality. Mr. Sparks assured me that the effect of all 
that he had been permitted to inspect at the Home 
Office had been to soften his feelings towards the British 
Government ; and certainly this modification of judg- 
ment is the natural result of hearing both sides. I think 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



19 



you would rejoice to hear of the abolition of our sacra- 
mental test. It is the more satisfactory because the 
measure was carried in direct contradiction to the wishes 
of the King, by the sole force of public opinion declaring 
itself through the House of Commons with an energy 
which ministers found it vain to oppose. Alas ! that the 
Catholic question should not also have been gained! 
All thinking people must dread the effects of renewed 
disappointment on the minds of so formidable a body 
as the Irish Catholics. In granting to them the civil 
rights of other subjects, I confess I see neither difficulty 
nor danger, neither probably do most of the opponents 
of the measure ; but they say, Concede that, and they 
will next demand the establishment of their own hier- 
archy on the ruins of the Protestant Church of Ireland, 
on the plea that the Established Church ought to be 
that of the majority — a plea not easy to be refuted. In 
your country you have at least no dilemma like this to 
apprehend. I think I have never answered a question 
in one of your letters respecting the credit of Lingard's 
History. I have examined carefully the narrative of 
those reigns which I have studied, and I do not hesitate 
to affirm that, with all its apparent candour, it abounds 
in artful misrepresentations ; but can or dare a Catholic 
priest be an honest historian of events involving the 
interests or the reputation of his Church ? I greatly 
doubt it. 

Believe me, dear Sir, yours with much esteem, 

Lucy Amm. 

To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, Aug. 12, 1823. 

Dear Sir, — I hope you will have received before this 
reaches you my long-delayed little book and a letter 



20 



TO DE. CHANGING. 



accompanying it; Mr. Sparks put me in the way of 
sending it through his London bookseller, addressed to 
his care, by which direction you may hear of it, should 
it not have reached you ; a poor return at best it is for 
the two admirable pieces with which you have last 
favoured me. Of the sermon I may truly say, that it 
was by far the noblest view of the Christian religion ever 
offered to my mind, and the most persuasive ; it derives 
a novelty and originality from its sublimity, its purity 
and its simplicity ; it is worthy of the most philosophic 
minds, the most enlightened ages, and I regard it as the 
best illustration of the idea of a progressive Christianity 
thrown out, as I remember, but not sufficiently unfolded, 
by that virtuous and accomplished, though not always 
judicious man and writer, Gilbert Wakefield. It is fitted 
to do incalculable good, and I am certain that in this 
country it will now find " audience fit," and by no means 
" few." The friends to whom I have communicated it 
are all ardent in their expressions of delight, and the 
forthcoming English edition is impatiently expected. 
Your further remarks on Napoleon are worthy of the 
same mind and pen ; I subscribe to them with all my 
mind and heart, and regard them as no less enlightening 
on political than your other piece on religious topics. 
This, too, has been greatly admired with us, and read by 
those for whom ethical writings in general have no attrac- 
tion. I have sincerely to thank you for the acquaintance 
of Mr. and Mrs. Norton ; their society afforded me great 
pleasure, and I only regretted that their stay in London 
was not further prolonged. Mr. Norton was so kind as 
to send me his " Eemarks on True and False Beligion," 
which convinced me how well founded was your com- 
mendation of him as a deep and powerful thinker ; his 
sensibility and amiable enthusiasm it was easy to dis- 
cover from his manners and conversation ; nor could the 



TO DR. CHAINING, 



21 



intelligence and animation of Mrs. Norton fail of attract- 
ing regard and interest. Ton put me on a great topic 
when you ask my sentiments of our religious reformation. 
A much better answer to your question than I am able 
to suggest you will find in Hallam's " Constitutional 
History of England/' published last year, which I entreat 
you to read, as the most informing work on this and 
many other important passages of our national story 
which has yet appeared. The author is probably known 
to you already as the able historian of the Middle Ages, 
of the English part of which work his new one may be 
regarded in some measure as a continuation. This writer, 
it may interest you to know, was educated in the bosom 
of Toryism and High-churchism, being the son of a very 
courtly canon of Windsor, and brought up at Oxford. By 
the efforts of his own vigorous and independent mind, 
he has liberalized his politics and come to a judgment 
of our Anglican Church and Churchmen which galls them 
sorely, as you may see by Southey's furious abuse of him 
in the " Quarterly Eeview." He Jcnoivs the dignified 
clergy thoroughly, and out of that knowledge contemns 
them as servile beyond any other class of Englishmen. 
From him they cannot pardon it. Et tu Brute ! You 
will find that he ascribes the ready acquiescence of the 
nation in Henry's reform in great part to the wide though 
secret diffusion of the doctrines of Wickliffe, respecting 
which you may see some curious facts in Turner's " En- 
glish History," which I think confirm Hallam. But I 
confess I think that great weight must also be given to 
the consideration that the memory of the civil wars was 
still so recent and so bitter, that Englishmen were then 
willing to yield to almost anything for a quiet life. It 
is also true that the personal character of Henry, by all 
its qualities, good and bad, was formed to assert a strong 
ascendency over the minds of his people, by whom he 



22 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



was at once more admired, esteemed and dreaded, than 
any other English king. It must further be considered 
that he innovated nothing in rites and doctrines ; he 
hated and persecuted the Protestants ; and so long as he 
did so, it is probable that the Catholics continued to 
flatter themselves that sooner or later he would return 
within the allegiance of the Holy Father. The ground 
of quarrel also was favourable to him ; it was thought 
hard that he should be refused his divorce ; it was visible 
that the Pope only refused it for fear of offending the 
Emperor, and the great body of English nobles had signed 
a threatening letter to Clement respecting it. Lastly, 
Henry was supported by Parliament in all his measures, 
and I have quoted in my Elizabeth the argument urged 
by the Attorney-General to More, founded on the omni- 
potence of that body : " You allow that Parliament may 
make kings ; why not a head of the Church ?" Still there 
ought to have been more martyrs among the clergy for 
their own credit ; but the Eomish Church had been so 
long triumphant, that we cannot be surprised to find it 
unprovided of the virtues militant. It behaved better 
afterwards ; all Mary's bishops, with one exception, re- 
fused to crown her successor, and submitted patiently to 
deprivation. The Protestants had taught them to prefei 4 
conscience to interest. But I believe that under Eliza- 
beth all the laity would gradually have conformed to 
Protestantism, but for that master-stroke of Eome, the 
institution of the order of Jesuits. They were a militia 
levied purposely to fight the battles of the Pope, and were 
certainly, in their way, a band of heroes. It is curious 
to see the efforts to revive them to meet the present 
dangers of the Church in France and elsewhere. My 
poor King Charles scarcely goes on, so very much am I 
impeded by ill health ; but my mind still clings to the 
subject, and I live in hopes of being yet enabled to com- 



TO MISS AIETN". 



23 



plete it. Have you seen the very able and accurate 
French work of Guizot on the " English Eevolution," in 
which he includes the reign of Charles I. ? I think it 
is the best history of the reign we yet possess. I have 
detected no errors and no important omissions, except 
with respect to the religious sects, of which he evidently 
knows but little. 

Believe me, dear Sir, 
With sincere esteem and regard, very truly yours, 

L. AlKIN. 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, November 29, 1828. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I am indebted to you for two 
letters, and did you know the pleasure with which I 
contract such debts, perhaps you would be tempted to 
multiply my obligations. I have not received as yet 
the books by your father and yourself, but expect them 
by the next packet. Children's books, I think, should 
be written by those who are able to write for men, and 
I am glad to find such labourers in this field as yourself 
and your father. Your explanation of the causes of the 
faint resistance made to the reformation, or rather reli- 
gious revolution, under Henry VIII., was very satisfac- 
tory to me. I rejoice with you in the repeal of the Test 
Acts, and still more in the cause of that repeal ; I mean 
the power of public opinion. All your positive institu- 
tions seem to me fitted to build up and enrich the aristo- 
cracy. The hopes of the people seem to rest mainly, 
if not wholly, on the singular facilities enjoyed in your 
country for forming and expressing public opinion. I 
think there is no country in the world where they who 
think alike on great subjects may so easily understand 



24 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



each other, and join their efforts and ascertain and mani- 
fest the strength and extent of their views. The con- 
densed state of your population, the intimate, vital con- 
nection of London with every part of the kingdom, and 
the electric speed with which the press brings a subject 
before the whole people at the same moment, — these 
things strike me as singular means of embodying and 
uttering general opinions with a force which cannot 
always be withstood. I feel, however, that the cause of 
the people has a very, very hard warfare to wage with 
the aristocratic principles of your government. By the 
cause of the people I mean nothing revolutionary, but 
a system of liberal or impartial measures, having the 
common good for their only aim. I hope indeed much 
from the culture of the intellect in the mass of the 
people; in truth, without this their case is desperate. 
But moral power is even more necessary than intellec- 
tual to the security of the just rights of the many, to 
the practical establishment of the great truth that the 
general weal is the only legitimate end of government, 
and I grieve to say that I do not see as decided marks of 
moral progress as I could desire. Excuse this long dis- 
cussion which has filled my paper. The truth is, I have 
so deep an interest in your country, and such a convic- 
tion that it must exert an immense influence, whether 
for good or for evil, in the human race, that when I 
begin on the subject I know not where to end. I send 
you a discourse which I have just published. You have 
hitherto only commended what I have sent you. Believe 
me, if you would write to me with perfect freedom, and 
tell me where you differ and disapprove, you would 
confer a still greater favour. 

Very sincerely your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



25 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August 29, 1828. 

My dear Miss Aikin,— It was with great pleasure that 
I received another letter in your handwriting. I had 
heard from some of my friends who maintain an active 
correspondence with the family of Mr. Kinder, that you 
were ill ; and although I was not led to consider your 
situation as dangerous, I feared that you might suffer 
long. It is a dictate of nature to rejoice when our friends 
are restored, and I have never suffered any dark or phi- 
losophical views of life to check this spontaneous move- 
ment, I know that our Creator has better gifts and 
higher spheres of action than the present state. Yet 
when I see life so usefully and honourably filled as by 
yourself, it seems to me a great good ; nor do I feel as if 
in detaining my friends here I were abridging the happi- 
ness of their whole being. May you be long continued, 
then, to enrich your own and others' minds ! You speak 
as if you had thought death nigh. I recollect, when I 
was placed in that situation, I felt myself privileged, 
for I had before felt doubts as to the impressions which 
so solemn a moment might make. I delight to think 
of the support I found in religious principles and hopes. 
I was not, however, reluctant to return to life, as you 
seem to have been. I had much to live for, and I had 
found life a constantly increasing good. I trust that 
you will find that you have come back to an improving 
existence, nor will it be strange if the future shall be 
made happier and brighter by the sufferings from which 
you have risen. I hope you have resumed your more 
serious literary labours. The period of history on which 
you are to give us your lights is singularly interesting, 
and, like all periods of public distraction and convulsion, 

c 



26 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



is very much obscured by the misrepresentations of 
party spirit. The men of that age were too much heated 
to judge calmly, and the world has not grown cool since 
their time on the great subjects which stirred them, I 
wish to know the Puritans better than I do. We here 
who have Puritan blood in our veins are never tired of 
celebrating their virtues. The first book which shook 
my faith in the common notions about them was Mrs, 
Hutchinson's Memoirs of her husband — a book which 
let me into some of their springs of action and more 
silent movements. A just, impartial estimate of the 
Puritans would be an important service to history and 
to the cause of religion and liberty. I saw a laboured 
and high-wrought description of them in the " Edinburgh 
Keview" not long since, in which the writer seemed to 
me to be thinking more of himself than his subject. 
You will understand that I am speaking of their cha- 
racter. I have not a moment's doubt as to the good 
they did. Whether fanatics or hypocrites, or both, or 
men of sound and enlarged minds — whether governed 
by high or low motives, they served posterity almost, 
beyond expression by their struggles for freedom or their 
resistance of absolute power. Can we judge whether 
they were most corrupted by the possession of power or 
by their religious extravagance ? I know the first is 
considered the most active cause ; but the moral sense 
is more injured than we suppose by fanaticism. I mean, 
however, to give no judgment. After reading the common 
books on history, I feel myself very ignorant and want to 
begin anew my studies. You promise me another letter. 
Do write often, for you give great pleasure. 

Very respectfully, your sincere friend, 

W. E. Changing. 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



27 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, December 26, 1828. 

Dear Sir, — My paper bespeaks your patience for a long 
epistle ; but I have two kind letters to acknowledge, and 
I perceive that the more we write to each other, the 
more we may write ; for new topics of inquiry and dis- 
cussion are constantly springing up between us, which 
is delightful. I have to talk to you of our old Puritans, 
of the present state of opinion and of morals amongst 
us, and of your own works ; all which requires a large 
sheet. Your remark that fanaticism injures the moral 
character more than is usually supposed, has my full 
concurrence ; and all I have learned of our old Puritans 
and their descendants confirms it. With fanatics, reli- 
gion is rather a substitute for morality than a support 
to it ; and I have seldom studied the character of a 
thorough-paced enthusiast without finding reason to be- 
lieve that it contained a dash of knavery. Our old 
Puritans made their religion more directly instrumental 
to the purposes of worldly ambition than almost any 
other fanatics ; the prediction that the saints should 
"inherit the earth," was constantly in their mouths; 
they declared that its accomplishment was close at hand, 
and they never hesitated to claim the character of 
saintship for themselves. I have been so fortunate as 
to procure a large collection of thanksgiving sermons 
preached before the Long Parliament, which will enable 
me to convict many of these holy men out of their own 
mouths. One example of the spirit they were of, I will 
give you. After a string of furious invectives and 
denunciations against the royalists and prelatists, the 
preacher turns- round with a — "but it will be said that 

c 2 



28 



TO DK. CHAINING. 



Christians are commanded to forgive and love their 
enemies ; certainly their own enemies, but not the ene- 
mies of God, as those ungracious persons are " ! As for 
their descendants, the Calvinistic Dissenters, they had 
the misfortune of living in one of those middle states 
between direct persecution and perfect religious liberty, 
which sours the temper by continual petty vexations, 
without affording scope for great efforts or great sacri- 
fices — which drives men to find a perverse pleasure in 
hating and being hated, and to seek indemnification for 
the contempt of the world in a double portion of spiri- 
tual pride and self-importance. "We can prove our- 
selves saints," "being Christ's little flock everywhere 
spoken against," is the plea put into the mouth of this 
set by Green, a poet, who was born and bred among 
them. 

I have as much Presbyterian blood in my veins as 
any of your New-Englanders, and from the elders of our 
family I have picked up volumes of traditionary lore 
concerning the old Dissenters of Bedford, who built a 
meeting-house for John Bunyan, and their brethren of 
Northampton and Leicester — still strongholds of Cal- 
vinism. From the whole, I conclude that they were 
usually lordly husbands, harsh parents, merciless censors 
of their neighbours, systematically hostile to all the 
amenities of life, but not less fond of money, or more 
scrupulous in the means of acquiring it, than the world- 
lings whom they reprobated. Long before my time, 
however, my kindred — the Jennings', the Belshams, my 
excellent grandfather Aikin, and his friend and tutor 
Doddridge — had begun to break forth out of the chains 
and darkness of Calvinism, and their manners softened 
with their system. My youth was spent among the dis- 
ciples or fellow-labourers of Price and Priestley, the de- 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



29 



scendants of Dr. J ohn Taylor, the Arian, or in the society 
of that most amiable of men, Dr. Enfield. Amongst 
these there was no rigorism. Dancing, cards, the theatre, 
were all held lawful in moderation : in manners, the Free 
Dissenters, as they were called, came much nearer the 
Church than to their own stricter brethren, yet in doc- 
trine no sect departed so far from the Establishment. 
At the period of the French Eevolution, and especially 
after the Birmingham Eiots, this sect distinguished 
itself by the vehemence of its democratical spirit, and 
becoming in a manner a faction as well as a sect, 
political as well as religious animosity became arrayed 
against it, and I now remember with disgust, not 
without compunction, the violent contempt and hatred 
in which, in common with almost all the young, and 
not a few of the more mature of that set, I conceived 
it meritorious to indulge towards the Church and the 
aristocrats. 

The doctrines called Evangelical make all the noise 
now, both within the Church and without. Yet I fancy 
that their success is at its furthest, and I should not 
wonder to hear of a party professedly latitudinarian, 
and really Unitarian, beginning to show itself within 
the Church. Oxford partakes very little in the Evan- 
gelism of Cambridge. Of these Evangelicals, too, one 
encouraging symptom is to be observed — they have gra- 
dually and almost imperceptibly quitted Calvinism for 
Arminianism ; therefore they feel less confident of being 
amongst the elect, and take more pains to work out their 
own salvation, not only by religious observances, but by 
deeds of beneficence and mercy. With much of the 
Puritanical rigour, in such points as the observance of 
the sabbath and the avoidance of public amusements, 
they are certainly a better set — indefatigable superin- 



so 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



tendents of schools, munificent patrons of Bible societies 
and missions, and incessant visitants of the sick and 
poor. Of course there must be many self-interested 
hypocrites among them, and not a few sour and cen- 
sorious fanatics ; and to a system so exclusive as theirs, 
some bigotry must adhere : but I think that many of 
them are so exemplarily good, and so sincerely pious, 
and act from so profound a sense of duty, that they must 
at length win from God the grace to think more worthily 
of His intentions towards the human race than they 
seem to do at present. I think, however, that their 
moral influence on the whole, and particularly amongst 
the lower class, is in many points unfavourable. They 
make religion exceedingly repulsive to the young and 
the cheerful, by setting themselves against all the sports 
and diversions of the common people, and surfeiting them 
with preaching, praying and tutoring; they bewilder, 
and sometimes entirely overthrow, weak and timid minds 
by their mysterious and terrific doctrines ; and they do 
much towards confounding moral right and wrong by 
the language which they hold on the efficacy of sudden 
conversions and death-bed repentance. The assurances 
of eternal bliss which they hold out to the most atrocious 
malefactors are often a just subject of scandal. On the 
whole, their system has much of the debasing, and, as 
it were, vulgarizing effect which you justly ascribe to 
such views of religion — and is perhaps one of the great 
causes of that apparent want of moral progress which 
you remark amongst us. Other causes are cheap poison 
in the shape of gin ; over-population, which makes it 
hard to thousands to gain a livelihood by honest labour, 
and the improvident habits produced by our Poor Laws, 
and by the excess, or, in many cases, the injudicious 
application, of public and private charity. Our long 



TO "DR. CHAXXIXG. 



31 



wars, and the crushing weight of taxation which they 
have drawn upon us. are perhaps the remote source of 
most of these great evils. 

Our state is a very strange one — unexampled activity 
in every kind of pursuit — excessive activity, I should be 
inclined to say — unexampled diffusion of knowledge, 
but bad institutions of many kinds, tending to crush the 
many, to exalt the few ; abuse and corruption in every 
department; vast luxury and corresponding rapacity, 
and a great fund of stupid and illiberal prejudice diffused 
through all classes. We are, in the main, a Tory people ; 
and, what you may well think strange, the greatest Whigs 
and reformers amongst us actually hail a Tory ministry 
like the present, because no other kind of ministry has 
ever strength or permanence to effect anything, being 
unwelcome both to the King and the people ; and at a 
time when so much light and knowledge prevails, even 
Tories are influenced by public opinion, and often indeed 
by the necessity of the case, to favour some reforms (like 
Mr. Peel's of the Criminal Law) which in their hands 
become effective. If the Catholic claims be granted, it 
will be a concession which only a Tory minister could 
extort from our King, or carry against the clergy. The 
agitation of these claims, by the way, produces some of 
the strangest anomalies of our situation. Here are our 
highest Churchmen abusing without mercy the Catholics, 
whom Horsley formerly, with greater reason, declared to 
be " nearer and dearer" to them than any Protestant sec- 
taries ; and here are we Liberals almost driven into a 
league, offensive .and defensive, with old Popery, whom 
we have been bred to scorn and hate from our cradle. 

And now to my last topic. ISTothing can be more sin- 
cere than the admiration 1 have expressed of your works, 
and none have I more admired than your last. Your 
views of the relation in which the Deity stands to man, 



32 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



and of the light in which He is to be regarded by rational 
beings, seem to me developments of my own thoughts, 
and the spirit of the whole discourse elevates, consoles, 
and delights me. 

God bless you, my dear and valued friend ! 

L. Aikin. 

To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, March 30, 1829. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — This letter will be handed you 
by two of my most valued friends, Mr. and Mrs. Ware, 
of this city, the former one of our most eminent and 
enlightened ministers, and the latter a lady well known 
to your friends of the Kinder family, and esteemed among 
us as one of our most excellent women. I am truly glad 
to send to your country such specimens of our own. I 
think the time has come for breaking down the old spirit 
of nationality which had its rise in darker times, when 
men were hardly capable of any nobler bond, when it 
was a great thing to carry individuals beyond themselves 
as far as the borders of their country ; but are we not 
now able to leap these borders ? to feel that the natural 
tie of man to man is the most sacred of all ? to sympa- 
thize with intellect and virtue everywhere ? and to help 
in forming a great community of friends of virtue, piety 
and freedom, who, speaking in all lands, will put to 
silence the narrow prejudices in which tyranny, war and 
superstition find their chief strength ? It is in the hope 
that this holy union is growing in the world, that I take 
pleasure in sending the intelligent and virtuous from 
this country to yours. I would ask if in your country 
the friends of old abuses are not most anxious to keep 
alive national feeling ? There is an instinct by which 
such men know where their strength lies. I have no 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



33 



desire to extinguish patriotism ; but unless it can be 
purified, this principle must be a bar to the progress of 
the mind. It certainly corrupts moral sentiment and 
narrows the heart. 

Your last letter was very interesting to me. In much 
which you have said of the Puritans I accord with you. 
But have you made allowance enough for the power of 
self-deception ? I suppose the best part of the sect came 
to this country, and they undoubtedly possessed much 
stern devotion to what they thought right. They had 
the stronger virtues in no common degree ; but a false 
and narrow theology and the narrow maxims of their age 
turned their very strength of principle into harshness, 
intolerance, unkindness. The Puritans here were a more 
honest race than you suppose, but I am afraid not more 
amiable. Their fellow-sectaries at home were, I doubt 
not, terribly corrupted by struggles for power and by 
political success. I look for your book with much hope. 
Let me only repeat that you must labour to be the very 
personification of impartiality in treating of a period 
which as yet none of us view dispassionately. 

Did you examine the authorities for Hess's Life of 
Zwinglius when you translated it ? The book seemed 
to me not altogether trustworthy. At least I missed the 
philosophical spirit in it. I feared it was a panegyric. 
Still I have a great interest in Zwinglius, and want to 
know how far I may confide in his biographer. 
Very affectionately your friend, 

E. Chaxxing, 



To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hanipstead, June 12, 1S29. 

Dear Sir, — Your friends Mr. and Mrs. Ware visited us 
last night, and I hasten to thank you most cordially for 



34 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 



the acquaintance of these excellent people. If my letter, 
which is lost with the little books, had reached you 
safely, it would have told you how welcome were your 
other friends, the Nortons and Mr. Sparks ; but they 
have returned to you, and have brought, I trust, no ill 
report of their reception. I know not exactly why it is, 
but your people always feel to me more like kindred 
than strangers ; we are acquainted as soon as we meet. 
Simplicity of manners, with elevation of mind and a cul- 
tivated intellect, form a union admirable anywhere, but 
less rare, I apprehend, in your state of society than in 
ours ; amid the bustling crowd of luxurious London it is 
a refreshment to the spirit to meet with it. Continue 
by all means to send us these noble specimens — it must 
tend to break down prejudices, and to strengthen the 
bands which ought to unite together the true friends of 
man in every clime. It is indeed time to throw aside 
the fetters of nationality already amongst us ; the best 
men have the lead of it ; and the blessed influence of 
peace which now renders an Englishman or an American 
free of the whole civilized world, emancipates the mind 
with the person and teaches it to scorn all littleness. 

I have but a shabby account to give of Zwingle. I 
certainly verified nothing, and do at present regard that 
biography as a very rhetorical prize essay, and worthy of 
little confidence. My translation was made in early 
days, long before I became a searcher into history, and, 
truth to say, I undertook the task merely that I might 
have the satisfaction of earning a journey to Scotland by 
my own labour, instead of going at my father's expense. 
Zwingle however was an excellent man, and I was pleased 
to find that the best of English reformers and martyrs, 
Latimer, Eidley, &c, were followers of his pure and 
simple doctrine. Many thanks for your Fenelon. I 
thought there was a little inconsistency between the 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



35 



agreement with some of his leading tenets which you 
begin with professing, and the very important disagree- 
ments which you go on to explain ; but your sketch of 
the Catholic bishop is beautiful, and calculated to do 
much good ; and, in a very different way, I regard your 
remarks on self-immolation as highly valuable. I re- 
member making several reflections on the mischievous 
absurdity of that notion after reading a French selection 
from eminent Catholic divines for the use of young per- 
sons. The doctrine of original sin is the root of that and 
various other highly noxious errors in the popular systems 
of ethics ; and though the selfish system has never satis- 
fied either my reason or my heart, I think we owe great 
obligation to Paley and others who have set it up against 
its opposite. The Calvinists, by the way, stated the 
opposition between God and what they called Self as 
strongly as the Catholics. I found in some contemporary 
writers the cant term of self-seeking mentioned as a new 
coinage of the Scotch Covenanters ; and looking then 
into the matter, I was inclined to think that the word 
selfish was scarcely of earlier origin, at least in its present 
acceptation. AYhat a dreadful idea, that our Creator has 
planted within our bosoms a domestic foe, from whom we 
can never fly, and whose malice never sleeps a moment, 
an evil principle solely occupied in working our perdi- 
tion ! When will the most enlightened nations of the 
world take courage to banish from the midst of them 
superstitions far more baneful than the wildest dreams 
of savage ignorance ? Did you ever read a Life of Fene- 
lon by Charles Butler, the Catholic ? It is a curious 
work, and I had some curious conversation with him 
respecting it. He plainly regards Fenelon's submission 
to the condemnation of his work, which Papists and 
courtiers united to call sublime, as something like a 
politic nianceuvre. The whole story is an example, 



36 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



equally melancholy and instructive, of the sullying in- 
fluence of temporal and spiritual despotism upon cha- 
racters made for sincerity and magnanimity. But this 
further moral it perhaps did not suit the purposes of 
your tract to deduce from the history of one of the best 
men of his class. 

Believe me, with the highest regard, 

Most sincerely yours, 

Lucy Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August 2, 1829. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I find so much in your letters 
to interest me, that to gain a new one I have more than 
once conquered my besetting infirmity of procrastination. 
Your last was particularly gratifying. 

You seem to consider a lively religious faith as con- 
nected with constitution. I believe the vividness of 
ideas which have their foundation in the reason depends 
very much on the moral will. The faith of the imagina- 
tion we cannot command, but that of the reason and 
conscience is in our power. The first I value not at all. 
The last seems to me the one thing needful, the pearl of 
great price. To realize our connection with the Supreme 
Being seems to me the great secret and spring of moral 
energy, moral victory, and unlimited progress in what- 
ever ennobles our nature. It is for these influences that 
I value religion. The joys which the fanatic boasts of 
finding in piety, which have little or no connection with 
moral improvement, I hold cheap indeed. But religion 
such as I learn it in the word and works of God is a very 
different influence. I know nothing to give unfailing 
moral energy to the mind but a living faith in a Being 



TO MISS AIKEN". 



37 



of infinite perfection, and who is always with us to aid, 
strengthen, reward, reprove, chasten and guide to immor- 
tality. I can set no bounds to the force of hope, resolu- 
tion, love and effort, which such a principle can commu- 
nicate ; nor would I for the world lose the aid which the 
Christian religion gives in sustaining and strengthening 
this principle. 

Since writing to you, I have read the work you recom- 
mended, "Hallarn's Constitutional History," with great 
pleasure. It has carried me much farther into your 
history than I had gone before. It did not, however, 
remove all my perplexities. I was somewhat surprised 
to find Toryism so predominantly High-church as he 
represents it. I had supposed that this was essentially 
and chiefly a political heresy, and that it was character- 
ized chiefly by devotion to legitimacy, arbitrary power 
and the crown, and that it supported the altar chiefly as 
a pillar of the throne. But I find that it clung to the 
Church more obstinately than to the Throne, and that 
its fanaticism outstripped its loyalty. How happened 
this ? I can understand how the Tories after the Eesto- 
ration came to hate Puritan and Dissenter with their 
whole heart, and made the Church an idol in opposition 
to these ; but not how episcopacy became dearer than 
legitimacy. I am surprised too at finding the High- 
church Tory so perseveringly bitter against the Catholics, 
for the Eomish Church had antiquity on its side, and 
was even the channel of priestly power from the apostles 
to the English bishop : and, besides all this, it had the 
Tory reverence for kings. I have long wondered how 
the High- churchman can be kept from breaking through 
the narrow barrier between himself and the Catholic. 
All his principles carry him to Eome. What force has 
driven him so fiercely in the opposite direction ? I have 
been exceedingly struck with the hard fight which liberal 



38 



TO DR. CHANETNG. 



principles had to maintain, and with the fact that they 
triumphed so much by the aid of religions fanaticism, 
now Puritan, now High-church. But my paper admo- 
nishes me to stop. When you write, I wish you to 
inform me of the progress of your work on Charles. I 
look for it with much desire and hope. 

Very truly your friend, 

W. E. Chaining. 



To De. Channing. 

Hampstead, October 8, 1829. 

Dear Sir, — I too, either from temper or hahit, am a 
great procrastinator, and therefore I sit down to reply to 
your most welcome letter immediately, whilst the im- 
pression is quite fresh : I shall not be " gravelled for lack 
of matter." Hallam, I was certain, would both interest 
and inform you, and I wdsh you could put your historic 
difficulties to the author himself, as I did some of mine 
a few months ago, at a party where we were glad to dis- 
cuss instead of dining. Such a torrent of knowledge he 
poured upon me ! He talks faster than any other mortal 
who talks wisely and who has lost his teeth, and hard 
task it is to follow him. But as to some of your difficul- 
ties respecting our Tories and No-popery High-church- 
men, I almost think I can give you some solutions 
myself. Toryism and High-churchism are so closely and 
naturally connected, that it is scarcely possible, in gene- 
ral, to estimate the separate influence of each ; and in 
all our troubled times from the Long Parliament to the 
Eevolution, it is plain that religious and political prin- 
ciples were both busy in the fray ; but the shares belong- 
ing to each have been very differently stated by writers : 
thus Fox maintains that James II. was deposed chiefly 



TO DR. CHANNING, 



39 



for his tyranny, and Hallani holds that it was chiefly for 
his Popery, and I know not which is likely to be nearest 
the truth. However, it is certain that the smoke of 
Smithfield fires and the fume of Fawkes's gunpowder 
have to this clay an unsavoury odour in the nostrils of 
the people. The clergy, as a portion of the people, par- 
take of the same sense of things ; moreover, the penal 
laws were a formidable obstacle to apostasy from the 
State religion. Laud himself, though in ritual and in 
some points of doctrine he wished to return as near as 
possible to Eome, felt that he could not conform entirely 
" till Eome were other than she is,'' and said " No/' as 
you remember, to the Cardinal's hat. His master also 
seems to have been well aware at least that it could 
never stand safe upon the head of an Archbishop of Can- 
terbury; moreover, he himself hated Popery, like his 
father, on account of its assuming power to depose kings, 
and he would not have resigned his supremacy. Xow it 
has been a constant maxim of Eome to concede nothing 
to schismatics ; all schemes of compromise between it 
and the English Church have constantly failed, and dif- 
ferences are sure to gain importance in the eyes of those 
who by experience have found them to be irreconcilable. 
Hence the determined alienation of some of our highest 
Churchmen from a Church which they would have met, 
perhaps, more than half-way. James II. strove to esta- 
blish one exclusive Church on the ruins of another. In 
this extreme case the bishops must give up one of three 
things — honour and conscience, their mitres, or their 
favourite principle of passive obedience — and it is not 
wonderful if they judged the last the smallest sacrifice. 
In Dryden's " Hind and Panther," you may see, too, that 
Catholics, especially those who were converts or conform- 
ists to the King's religion, used at this crisis language 
sufficiently provoking and contemptuous to the Angli- 



40 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



cans. With what intolerable point, and justice too, he 
tells them, 

But, half to take on trust, and half to try, 
It is not faith, but bungling bigotry. 

After the Bevolution, and down to George III., with 
the exception of High-church Anne, things were in a 
different position. The Court was by necessity Whig. 
The bishops, or those who desired to be so, were there- 
fore, by like necessity, Whigs also ; and the fight against 
Popery and arbitrary power, which always went together, 
was carried on by Low-churchmen and Latitudinarians, 
with Stillingfleet and Tillotson at their head ; the coun- 
try squires and country parsons meanwhile remaining 
in the enjoyment of their High-churchism, Toryism and 
J acobitism. During the last reign, Jacobitism becoming 
extinct, high principles resumed their place at Court, 
and did their utmost to resist the spread of all freedom 
at home and abroad. Dissenters and democrats under- 
went much abuse and some persecution, and Horsley 
then spoke of the French emigrant priests as much 
"nearer and dearer" than the sectaries at home. Since 
that, however, the scene has changed again. Popery in 
Ireland is the religion of the mob ; it has acquired a 
deep taint of radicalism ; and its claims, being patronized 
by our Liberals, were opposed by the Tories of both 
islands till all statesmen saw that concession was un- 
avoidable. The clergy, as a body, had interests of their 
own at stake, and stood out longer. " Give the Catholics 
this," they cried, " and you give them strength both in 
Parliament and without. They will resist <the payment 
of tithes, they will overthrow the Protestant Church in 
Ireland, and then Heaven knows what they, with the 
Dissenters to help them, may attempt against tithes and 
Church in England," They struggled hard, and certainly 
scrupled no means to work upon the prejudices of the 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



41 



vulgar, high and low. But the spirit of the times, joined 
to the necessity of the case, proved too strong for the 
spirit of the Church ; it has sustained a signal defeat and 
humiliation, and I hope good will come of it. 

My health is still very indifferent ; in particular I am 
much troubled with severe headaches, which so con- 
tinually interrupt my studies, that I have the mortifica- 
tion to see my King Charles making very little and 
often no progress. With occupation it is comparatively 
easy to keep up the spirits under almost any circum- 
stances, but compulsory idleness I sometimes find it a 
hard task to bear with cheerfulness. However, I do my 
best, and with time and patience I still hope that my 
health will be restored and my work finished. One 
advantage this delay brings me ; it gives time for friends 
to take means for procuring for me family papers and 
other valuable documents, which one chance or other is 
continually bringing forth to daylight. In consequence 
of a base attack by Disraeli* on that patriot martyr, Sir 
John Eliot, his descendant Lord Eliot has rummaged out 
a correspondence between him and Hampden, and pro- 
mises to put it into my hands. Pray procure, if you 
can, another interesting family relic lately published, 
Lady Eanshaw's Memoirs. She was a royalist, and I 
feel proud of the women on both sides when I place her 
account on the same shelf as Mrs. Hutchinson's. There 
is much less of literary skill on the part of Lady Eanshaw, 
but her artless tale is full of interest and amusement. 

Passing from old times to new times, I have two pieces 
of intelligence for you, that German metaphysics (in the 
train of which German theology may follow) have got 
into Cambridge, where youths are puzzling their brains 
with Kantianism ; and that it is whispered — monstrurn 
horrendum !— that Unitarianism is infecting some of the 
* The elder Disraeli. 



42 



TO MISS A1KIN. 



most enlightened of the clergy of Oxford. What will 
the world come to ? Some of these clergy, and those of 
Cambridge, also addict themselves to the modern science 
of geology and other branches of natural history — this 
connects them with the Geological, Linneean, and other 
similar societies in London ; at their meetings they come 
in contact with the men of enlightened and independent 
minds, and thus they rub off professional stiffness and 
prejudice, and learn to assert something of the birth- 
right freedom of the mind. 

I had a glimpse, and no more, of the Wares on their 
return from their northern tour. Mr. Ware was looking 
better in the face, and there was less of languor in his 
air, but there seems to be still great room for amend- 
ment in his state. He ought to recover with such a 
wife to nurse him. They did well to hasten to a more 
genial climate ; ours has this season been unusually 
trying to all invalids. I am afraid that Canada keeps 
up in your country a somewhat bitter feeling against 
England which here is not reciprocated; for when we 
want to hate our neighbours, the French are far more 
handy than you. 

You may wonder that I should talk of my inability 
to write a volume ; but a letter may be written lounging, 
and requires no apparatus of folios and quartos. 

Pray believe me, very cordially yours, 

Lucy Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, December 31, 1829. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — A packet sails to-morrow for 
Liverpool, and though pressed for time, I cannot let it 
go without an acknowledgment of your last very accept- 



TO MISS AIKTN". 



43 



able letter. Your solution of my historical difficulties 
about High-churchmen and Popery was very gratifying. 
By the way, Popery seems destined to call forth the zeal 
of all parties among the Protestants. Xew and great 
efforts are made here to subdue our Puritan aversion to 
Bonie, and we are threatened with what I earnestly wish 
to avert, a Catholic controversy. Are you quite aware 
that one of the most powerful arguments on the con- 
tinent in favour of Catholicism is what is called the 
historical argument, or that which is drawn from the 
subsistence of the Church through so many ages and 
perils ? They who are open to this kind of proof must 
be very much confirmed by the present state of Popery, 
and probably see a miracle in its sudden rise from what 
seemed ruin. 

Your news from Oxford needs confirmation. I am 
slow to believe that liberal principles in theology have 
scaled that fortress of orthodoxy. It is astonishing how 
far men's minds may be enlarged on other subjects and 
yet be stationary on this. I read last summer Dr. 
^Yhately's books on Ehetoric and Logic (he is of Oxford), 
and was much gratified with the sound judgment and 
manly reasoning with which they abound, and was then 
led to seek a volume of his on St. Paul's writings, hoping 
to find the same clear and vigorous intellect ; but I was 
grieved to meet, not seldom, the same narrow, confused, 
superficial mode of thinking on several topics which 
mark the writers of his Church. I ought to say, how- 
ever, that sometimes he shows his clear and strong mind. 
This more than anything has led me to question your 
news. As to Kantism, I shall be glad to hear of an 
irruption of it into any university or any part of your 
country. I want to see the English mind waked up on 
the great subject of intellectual philosophy. I know you 
look rather frowningly on metaphysics. But you have 



44 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



not perhaps separated the true object of this science from 
the idle topics which have been associated with it. The 
mechanical, necessarian philosophy of the human mind 
which has so long been the orthodoxy of England, I 
have no sympathy with. This leads me to ask who is 
the author of two books, " Essays on the Formation of 
Opinion," and on " The Pursuit of Truth," which have 
lately fallen into my hands, and which, though in many 
respects opposed to my views, I must own to show great 
power. 

Will you forgive an almost illegible letter ? I could 
write no other at present, and was unwilling to ^ait till 
I could find time for slower movement of the hand. 

With earnest wishes for the restoration of your health 
and the progress and completion of your literary labours, 
I am, very truly, your friend, 

Wm. E. Chaining. 

[It is clear from what follows that two letters of the 
correspondence are missing.] 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, June 1, 1830. 

Dear Sir, — Many thanks for your welcome letter, which 
I was well able to decipher: I was the more glad to 
receive it, as I wanted such an excuse for writing to 
you, having, as you will find, abundant topics. My first 
shall be one concerning yourself — that article in the 
" Edinburgh Keview." I am charged to convey to you 
the regrets and indignation of a large group of your 
unknown friends and admirers, who are hurt at it much 
less from any fear that it should either disturb your 



TO DE. CHAXXLSTG. 



45 



mind or injure your literary reputation, than from an 
apprehension that your country should regard it as a 
mark of national enmity, the more startling as appearing 
in a journal usually the organ of liberal principles. It is, 
in fact, the ebullition of one malignant temper, and it is 
easy to show you the sources of his hostility, The writer 
is William Hazlitt, a vehement admirer of Xapoleon, of 
whom he has written a Life in a very different spirit 
from your remarks. He has also written on the English 
poets with an acute sense of their blemishes, and a very 
blunt perception of their beauties, another sin of yours ; 
further, he is at enmity with your commender Southey ; 
lastly, he was brought up at the feet of Priestley and 
Belsham, and probably retains of their system Material- 
ism and Necessity, and little more. The matter was 
discussed amongst us at a literary dinner, and there 
wanted not those well disposed to make you amende 
honorable : but no one could suggest a fitting vehicle — 
if the attack had but come from the " Quarterly/' 5 the 
" Edinburgh" would have gladly received an appeal ; but 
as it is, I believe it must be overlooked. I must tell 
you, however, that Mr. Hallam was one of the most 
indignant, and that he charged me to convey to you his 
wish to be regarded amongst your warm admirers, and 
his pleasure at learning that you had given some appro- 
bation to his labours. You would scarcely understand 
the reviewer's accusation against you as a trimmer ; but 
seemingly he supposes that those who rank with the 
Priestleyans in theology ought to maintain the same 
doctrines in metaphysics, though it would be hard to show 
any necessary or natural connection between them. But 
what an obstacle is it to the progress of truth that a 
man must take or leave all the opinions of some party 
or leader, on pain of being accounted a time-server ! It 
is one of the privileges of a mere spectator, like myself, 



46 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



to be free to accept or reject as conviction prompts, and 
accordingly I find myself often discarding old preposses- 
sions, and striking out to myself new lights. 

Now the time may have been that I did frown on 
metaphysics, and " as at present advised," I am a Lock- 
ist and Necessarian, and yet I am beginning to wish 
well to the progress of intellectual philosophy, and I 
will tell you why. This age and the men of it are " of 
the earth, earthy/' and I wish to see some upward move- 
ment. There is a pseudo science called political eco- 
nomy which dries up the hearts and imaginations of 
most who meddle with it — there is Bentham's system, 
called the Utilitarian, which has a similar effect — there 
is Paley's system of morals, long the text-book at Cam- 
bridge, and just introduced as such, I am told, in the 
Scotch universities, which is another grovelling thing ; 
and to all these, a lofty philosophy would act, I believe, 
as a counterpoise of great value. Metaphysical inquiries 
may, on many points, show only "how little can be 
known ;" but when conducted in a proper spirit, I have 
seen them work much good on the mind and character ; 
yet, as you say, they do not always make men the better 
reasoners on religion, or set them above vulgar cries or 
vulgar prejudices. Benson, now Master of the Temple, 
one of the most distinguished preachers and theologians 
in London — a Cambridge man — once favoured me with 
a luminous and beautiful lecture or harangue on Kant- 
ism ; yet that man has renounced acquaintance, after a 
very long and dear friendship, with venerable Mr. Turner, 
of Newcastle, one of the best of human beings, on account 
of his Unitarianism, and has publicly preached that this 
faith was contrary to morals ! Yet my Oxford news is 
true ; not of any of their logical or metaphysical writers, 
that I know of, but of some of their geologists and other 
natural philosophers, who, turning the force of their 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG, 



47 



minds to those branches of science in which they may 
speculate unshackled, whisper in corners to other men 
engaged in similar pursuits their contempt for the Arti- 
cles they have signed. My brother Arthur hears such 
talk from Oxonian members of the Geological Society 
when they attend its meetings. 

I have heard the two works you mention spoken of 
with high praise by a few good judges, but I have not 
yet seen them ; the author, I am told, is a Mr. Bailey, of 
Sheffield, but this is all I can learn. You cannot con- 
ceive how much the lettered aristocracy of London society 
disdains to know anything of provincial genius or merit, 
at least in any but the most popular branches of litera- 
ture. Montgomery, a Sheffield poet, being also an Evan- 
gelical, is tolerably well known in London, and may, in 
some companies, be slightly mentioned without commit- 
ting the speaker. But a Sheffield metaphysician ! bold 
were the London diner-out who would dare not to be 
ignorant of him ! You once observed to me that every- 
where the sovereign is worshipped ; with us, that sove- 
reign is an idol called Gentility, and costly are the offer- 
ings laid upon the altar. Dare to make conversation in 
the most accomplished society something of an exercise 
of the mind, and not a mere dissipation, and you in- 
stantly become that thing of horror, a Bore* 

To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hainpstead, June 7, IS 30. 

Dear Sir, — By the kindness of Mr. Ware, I have it at 
length in my power to send copies of the two little books 
so long since destined for your daughter ; and though I 
have written to you at large so lately, I cannot resist the 

* The rest of the letter is missing. 



48 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



temptation of adding a letter. I hope it cannot be very 
troublesome to you to read what it is so agreeable to me 
to write. 

Tour friend Mr. Goodhue spent an hour with me one 
morning, and I was much pleased with his mild and 
amiable manners, and the information which he gave me 
respecting many of your institutions and societies. I 
wished for more of his company, and invited him for the 
next evening, when I expected Mrs. Joanna Baillie, Pro- 
fessor Smyth, and another valued friend, Mr. Whishaw, 
a gentleman who has written little, but whose literary 
opinions are heard in the most enlightened circles with 
a deference approaching that formerly paid to Dr. John- 
son. Mr. Goodhue was unfortunately engaged, but he 
sent me Mr. Eichmond, and the result was, one of the 
most animated and amusing conversaziones, chiefly be- 
tween him and the two gentlemen I have named — for 
we ladies were well content to be listeners — at which it 
has ever been my good fortune to be present. 

A more fluent talker than Mr. Eichmond I think I 
never heard, and I doubted at first how he might suit 
my two old gentlemen — both of them great eulogists of 
good listeners ; but he is very clever, and there was 
something so piquant in his remarks on what he had 
seen here, such a simplicity in his questions, and, when 
he spoke of his own country, such abundant knowledge, 
so ably and clearly expressed, that they were content for 
once to take such a share of talk as they could get by 
hard struggling. I think the Professor of Modern His- 
tory got matter for a new lecture on American law and 
politics ; and he and Mr. Eichmond took pains to con- 
trive another meeting. But to me the most curious part 
was Mr. Eichmond's wonder at having got into such high 
company as two or three baronets, a Scotch countess 
and some lord ; and his difficulty to imagine, and ours 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



49 



to explain to him, how our difference of ranks vjorks in 
society. He evidently supposed a much wider separation 
of classes than actually takes place. I believe the struc- 
ture of society with us may best be expressed by what 
an eminent naturalist has said of organized nature — it is 
not a chain of being, it more resembles a net ; each mesh 
holds to several others on different sides. Our compli- 
cated state of society, in recompence of great evils, has 
at least this advantage, that it brings the rich man or the 
noble into relation with a multitude of individuals, with 
whom he finds it necessary to his objects to associate on 
terms of social equality, notwithstanding great disparity 
of birth or fortune. Those very societies of which we 
agree in condemning the epidemic prevalence, are useful 
in our country by their levelling effect. In a Bible 
society or a missionary meeting, the zealous labourers, 
and still more the effective speakers, find themselves 
enabled to give the law to wealth and title. Scientific 
and literary institutions concur to the same results, and 
so does the cultivation in the higher ranks of letters and 
of arts. There is no fact, no talent, no acquirement, 
either useful or ornamental, no celebrity of any kind, but 
what serves its possessor as a ticket of admission to the 
company of some of his superiors. I imagine that in no 
country there can be less of undiscovered or unrewarded 
merit than in ours. Do you begin to suspect the insi- 
dious aim of these remarks ? Your " Means and Ends of 
a National Literature' 5 lies before me, and I am pleading 
for some exception as respects England to the general 
truth of your observation, that in Europe " it is for his 
blood, his rank, or some artificial distinction, and not for 
the attributes of humanity, that man holds himself in 
respect." Perhaps, however, my position, that men in 
this country value themselves, and are valued by others, 
very much according to their talents, tastes, acquirements, 

D 



50 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



and their power and will to serve a sect or party, may 
not be irreconcilable with your position that they do not 
respect themselves sufficiently for the attributes — the 
common attributes — of humanity. Here in the lower, 
that is the more numerous class, it is too near the truth 
that " man's life is cheap as beast's." Your estimate of 
our literature I think very just. I am not, however, 
without hope that in labouring, as you say, for ourselves, 
which the difficulties of our present situation render 
imperative upon us, some general truths may be elicited 
which may be capable of extended application, at least 
in the other old countries of Europe, which continue to 
look to us for examples of many kinds ; to you they will 
be less available. 

The oldest minister of the Scotch Church, Mr. Somer- 
ville, author of a valuable History of the Eeign of Queen 
Anne, died very lately at above ninety, but possessed of 
all his faculties. The venerable man uttered his " Nunc 
dimittis" on having witnessed Catholic emancipation; 
but one more triumph was in store for him in the perusal 
of your works ; he said he rejoiced in them exceedingly ; 
they formed an era in the progress of religion. This trait 
I have from his accomplished daughter-in-law, also a 
great admirer of yours. She is an eminent proficient in 
mathematical science, and now engaged in translating 
the works of La Place, and her countrywoman Joanna 
Baillie is no more modest, gentle and full of all goodness. 
Eogers the poet, having seen some of your pieces, told me 
he was going to the booksellers in search of all the rest. 
Merely as "means of moral influence" you may prize 
these testimonies. 

It was with great concern I heard from the Wares that 
you had sustained a severe attack of illness, though I 
learned at the same time of your recovery. Pray take 
care of yourself for many sakes besides your own ; you 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



51 



have yet much to do for the world ; and pray take it into 
consideration whether you ought not to winter in a 
milder climate, such as ours. How very much we would 
make of you if we had you here ! 

Believe me, ever yours, with the truest regard, 

L. AIKEN. 



To Miss Aikijst. 

Boston, October 21st, 1830. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I owe you two letters, or two 
of yours are unanswered, and they furnish me topics for 
many sheets. But may I postpone all these for a mo- 
ment ? I have not written you since the new Revolution 
on the continent, and what else can I write about ? It 
has filled my heart with gratitude and joy ; not that T 
have yielded to any dreams of an approaching millen- 
nium. I have given up the character of prophet, and I 
neither expect nor desire any moral miracles. It is 
enough for me to see that great principles, on which the 
happiness and progress of society depend, have struck 
root in Europe too deeply to be plucked up by policy or 
force. I consider the late Eevolution as putting to rest 
the great question, whether the liberal or aristocratic 
spirit is to triumph, whether human affairs are to go 
forward, or the old system be indefinitely perpetuated. 
If legitimacy would only open its eyes to read the signs 
of the times, to understand the strength of the principle 
of freedom and progress, and Avould be wise enough to 
make a compromise with it, so that it might make its 
way without convulsions, I should still more rejoice, 
and of this I do not despair. 

Another thing which gives me great pleasure is the 
proof afforded by the French people of having improved 

d 2 



52 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



by sufferings and experience. We hear much of national 
education. What nation ever learned so fast as France ? 
When we compare this people with what it was a cen- 
tury ago, can we sufficiently wonder at the change ? 
With the exception of one fatal idea, that of military 
glory, the national mind seems wholly turned on new 
objects, and noble, ones too. The ideas of human rights, 
of the true relation of man to man, of the end of political 
and social institutions, are beginning to unfold them- 
selves. How purified is the idea of Liberty since the 
Eevolution of 1789 ! 

To heighten my gratification, this Eevolution has all 
the air of being a popular one. The people were more 
than mere instruments ; they supplied the heart as well 
as the hands. A few leaders cannot claim all the credit 
for the energy and moderation of the movement. It 
puts one in mind of that fine passage of Paul : " Not 
many wise men, not many noble, &c, are called ; out of 
the weak things, and things which are despised, are 
chosen to bring to nought things that are." Nothing 
delights me so much as good springing from the people 
itself. 

The way in which England has received this great 
event does her much honour. You seem to be glad that 
your old rival promises or threatens to get the start of 
you. In good earnest, she does so threaten you, and I 
shall not be sorry to see you provoked to a right kind 
of jealousy. The friends of humanity are beginning to 
look to France as their chief hope. Not only her popu- 
lar, but her philosophical mind seems leaving you behind. 
Still I do not give up my " venerable mother/ 5 In one 
thing you surpass or used to surpass France. That coun- 
try thinks and acts too much in masses. The social 
spirit is too predominant. England used to have more 
solitary and independent thought. I say used, for I begin 



♦ 

TO MISS AIKDT, 



53 



to be alarmed about you. Your rage for associations for 
everything seems to show that nobody can work alone or 
act from his own impulse. I rejoice to think that France 
has come forward so fast without that endless machinery 
of societies which absorbs so much of the intellect and 
capital of England. 

My page admonishes me to stop, though I have a great 
deal to say. Let me only add, I never looked on any 
events more calmly than on what we have recently wit- 
nessed ; nor will many sad consequences at all affect my 
views. I see great truths making their way and becom- 
ing principles of action. This satisfies me. 

You amused me by the delicate manner in which you 
approached my article on National Literature. Did you 
know how I view what I give to the world, you would 
have fewer fears. I was probably right in the particulars 
in which you differ from me, for you who were born 
under aristocracies have no suspicion how much your 
judgment of human nature is perverted. We are dark- 
ened enough, but have a little more light. As to the 
article in question, I wrote it when sinking into disease, 
as I wrote my Election sermon whilst rising from disease. 
The body was indeed a reluctant instrument to the mind ; 
and if the articles have any merit, it is to be ascribed 
only to my deep conviction of what I wrote, so deep as 
to break forth under great physical infirmity. I wish 
you would always speak most freely of what I write. 
Some here charge me with caring nothing for opinion. 
I say this to show you that I am not very vulnerable. 
I think they mistake me. What they charge on me as 
indifference is partly a natural reserve of manner, and I 
hope arises in part from my supreme interest in the 
truth which I labour to communicate. This makes me 
always dissatisfied with my mode of communication, and 
diminishes my concern for mere reputation. It was one 



54 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



of the beautiful attributes of Jesus that he preferred his 
truth to himself, and in this, as in all things, I would 
follow him. By all this I do not mean that I wish you 
to speak at all of my writings ; but ivhen you do, to come 
to the point without any fear. I find that I have not 
left space enough on this page to allow me to use it as a 
cover. I will add, then, that I am rejoiced to hear of 
the progress of your History. Do not keep it back too 
long. 

I have recently been and am still amusing myself with 
Walpole's Letters. He shows what his power is by 
amusing me, for he offends my moral sentiments perpe- 
tually. I read him to learn something of a style of cha- 
racter and state of society of which I can know little by 
observation. I almost wonder that such an " upper class" 
as he describes was not overwhelmed and swept away by 
the impatient indignation of the other classes. I suppose 
the explanation to be, that the other classes were not 
much better. I will now release you. 

With sincere affection, your friend, 

Wm. E. Chaining. 

P. S. I forgot to ask you a question of some interest. 
I lately received a letter signed " William Burns," accom- 
panying a large prospectus or exposition of moral and 
religious principles, headed by these words, " The New 
Era of Christianity." The writer lives in Scotland, I 
suppose the southern part, and I think his letter was 
dated Saltcoat, or something like it ; but as it is in the 
hands of a friend out of the city, I cannot recur to it. 
He says that he has corresponded with distinguished 
men in France, and expresses the views of many in your 
island. I read several years ago two pamphlets by Wil- 
liam Burns, which were full of mind and pleased me 
much. One was called the " Spirit of Christianity," the 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



55 



other exposed the Evangelical party. Is my correspon- 
dent the same with the author ? What can you tell me 
about him ? Such movements are very encouraging to 
me. The "Xew Era" is to be characterized by a new 
development of the moral spirit of Christianity. It seems 
that there are those in Scotland who want some higher 
form of religion than they yet find. This is a good sign. 
But I want to know more of them before I write to 
Mr. Burns. 



To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, December 14, 1830, 

I had been quite impatient, my dear Sir, to hear from 
you, and I am almost equally impatient to answer your 
letter, which had a long passage, and is but two days 
arrived. I have volumes to say to you ; but first of the 
last, for fear I should forget it. I was' afraid W. Burns 
would prove a second Sheffield metaphysician, having 
never heard of him ; but at length my friend, the Piev. 
George Kenrick, supplies full and satisfactory informa- 
tion. Twenty years since, when a Glasgow student, he 
often saw Mr. Burns at Professor AVoodrow's. He was 
a very plain man, who had received the Scotch share of 
education, and no more, and whose style in writing was 
much more refined than in conversation. He had been 
a carpenter, but then lived without profession on a small 
fortune, devoted to reading and speculation. At that 
time he stopped short of Unitarianism, but adhered to 
the liberal party in the Scotch Church, and shared the 
odium attached to it in those evil days. He displayed 
a powerful and original mind, and was of high moral 
worth. Mr. K. thinks him to be not far short of sixty, 
and knows him for the author of the pieces you mention. 



56 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



Several corroborating circumstances persuade Mr. K. and 
myself that liberal principles are now rapidly advancing 
in Scotland. Mrs. Joanna Baillie says the reason there 
are so few Unitarians there out of the Church is, that 
there are so many in it. Their ministers sign a confes- 
sion at ordination, but having no liturgy, they are after- 
wards free to avoid all utterance of doctrine, if they 
please, or to teach their own. What an age have we 
fallen upon ! Since the French Ee volution we have had 
the Belgian, the Polish insurrection, and here we are 
in an English revolution ! I can scarcely give you an 
idea of our state — we do not half understand it our- 
selves, but I am sure you will be anxious to hear as 
much as I can tell you. The panic occasioned by the 
postponement of the Eoyal visit to the city was at first 
indescribable ; everybody said, " What must this danger 
be which frightens Wellington?" This soon subsided; 
it was admitted by all but a few of the highest Tories, 
that no case had been made out — that the Duke had 
either given in to a false alarm, or had wilfully raised 
one for political purposes. This, and his foolish declara- 
tion against Eeform, turned him out. We have now a 
ministry pledged to reform and retrenchment — to non- 
interference with foreign states. It comprises so much 
virtue and talent, that if sufficiently strong and suffi- 
ciently lasting, it would seem likely to secure to us 
important blessings. But in the meantime we seem on 
the brink of that complication of all horrors, a servile 
war. You have heard, no doubt, of our burnings, machine 
breakings, and mobs attacking houses, stage-coaches, and 
passengers, for plunder. This, you may think, is no 
more than we have suffered before from the proceedings 
of Luddites and other collections of discontented work- 
men. But here is the difference — those were risings of 
the manufacturers of some one branch alone, confined to 



TO DR. CHANGING. 57 



certain districts or towns, and comparatively easy to 
suppress. But this is a movement of the peasantry — the 
whole agricultural class almost throughout the country, 
and the means of quelling it are not obvious. The last 
tiling in English history like it was the Norfolk insur- 
rection, under Kett, in the reign of Edward VI., occa- 
sioned by the general inclosure of commons. Happily, 
our mobs have not collected by thousands, nor have they 
yet found a leader. The Tories, with their heads full of 
the French Eevolution, have spread the idea that the 
conflagrations were the work of political agitators of a 
rank much above the peasants, whom they moved. But 
this appears an ungrounded notion. All the persons 
yet apprehended as ringleaders are loose and reckless 
characters from the dregs of the people ; and herein, I 
conceive, lies the safety of the upper classes. Over- 
population is said, and I believe truly, to be the main 
cause of the distress which has produced these risings ; 
but others have concurred, such as the laying small 
farms into large ones, rack-renting, the absenteeism of 
landlords, and various abuses in the administration of 
the Poor-laws. There is a strong feeling also amongst 
the people against tithes and against clerical magistrates. 
In general, the gentlemen have acted in these matters 
with a mixture of courage and humanity which does 
them honour. Very able judges have been sent down 
to try the delinquents in custody ; the wages have been 
raised in most places ; and I trust that at the price of 
some pecuniary sacrifices, and some correction of abuses, 
we may see tranquillity restored. In the meantime, 
both London and these villages swarm with beggars ; 
some of them so sturdy and importunate, that there is 
but a shade between them and banditti. The ministry 
are in a situation of extreme difficulty and awful respon- 
sibility. They are pledged to some measure of Parlia- 

d 3 



58 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



mentary Keform, for which this is certainly a very 
awkward season. 

I am reading Jefferson's " Correspondence" with deep 
interest. I wept bitter tears at the recital of British 
cruelties during the war. I had no idea how horribly 
we treated you — pray forgive and forget ; Jefferson did 
neither, but I dare not blame him. He speaks of " the 
half-reformation in religion and government/' with which 
England has sat down contented, without thinking it 
necessary to cure her remaining prejudices. 

Say not that France is outstripping us in philosophy, 
unless you have read the " History of Moral Philosophy 
in Britain," lately written by Sir James Mackintosh. It 
is a work of immense erudition, full of acute and original 
remark, and showing a prodigious comprehension of the 
subject ; yet it is said to have been hastily written, and 
the style is not highly excellent. I am impatient for 
you to see it. Being written in a supplement to a new 
edition of the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," it could not be 
bought in a separate form ; the author only having a few 
copies for his friends, one of which was lent me. I tried 
to get possession of one for you, but failed. He was 
happily called by Mr. Whishaw, " an artist of conversa- 
tion." 

Brougham is our new Lord Chancellor — the Edinburgh 
reviewer — the radical-whig — the apostle of universal 
education and popular literature, whom we are astonished 
and delighted to behold in that highest dignity of a 
subject ! This is the man, the only man, whose powers 
I contemplate with wonder. In society he has the 
artless gaiety of a good-humoured child. Never leading 
the conversation, never canvassing for audience (in truth 
he has no need), he catches the ball as it flies with a 
careless and unrivalled skill. His little narratives are 
inimitable ; the touch-and-go of his remarks leaves a trail 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



59 



of light behind it. On the tritest subjects he is new 
without paradox and without effort, simply, as it seems, 
because nature has interdicted him from commonplace. 
With that tremendous power of sarcasm which he has 
so often put forth in public, he is the sweetest-tempered 
man in private life, the kindliest in its relations, the 
most attracting to his friends — in short, as amiable as he 
is great. His first great speech in the House of Peers 
on his plan for distributing cheap justice to the people, 
afforded a curious exhibition of the manners of that 
House. I have the account from Mr. Wkishaw, who 
accompanied the Chancellor. " None of the cheers, none 
of the applauses of the House of Commons — no interest 
in so great and useful a subject. On the impassive ice 
the lightnings played." And when he had concluded, 
no one rising, no one thanking him — " they sat in their 
curule chairs mute and motionless (however w T ide of them 
in other respects) as the Eoman senate in the presence 
of Brennus." No matter ; England hears him. It is the 
news of to-day that the Prussians are rising, and Austria 
dreading disturbances in Italy. We shall be free — all 
Europe will. I cast away alarms and apprehensions as 
unworthy things, and surrender myself to the spirit of 
the age. Eeligious changes in this country become 
probable. It cannot, I think, be questioned that the 
Evangelical clergy have become odious to the common 
people by their meddling spirit, their hostility to all 
amusements, and the gloom with which they invest the 
offices of religion. To recover influence, the clergy must 
relax a good deal ; if they do not, a season of Puritanism 
may again be followed by an age of utter profligacy. A 
well-informed friend just returned from Paris tells me, 
what others confirm, that with respect to religion the 
French mind is a " tabula rasa." " They do not write 
against Christianity," I remarked to one who knew Paris. 



60 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



" No, they think that settled ; they do not write against 
Jupiter." The churches are quite deserted, even in the 
south of France. — I am delighted at your amusing your- 
self with Walpole. All classes were very coarse then ; 
they had not yet thrown off the pollution of the Court 
of Charles II. Lady M. W. Montague's letters tell the 
same tale — the Whig Horace Walpole was aristocracy 
personified. 

I hope you will again gratify me with a letter before 
it is very long — your letters give me much to think 
upon. Ever most truly yours, 

L. Aikin. 

To Miss Aikin. 

St. Croix (West Indies), March 4, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Thanks for your letter of 
Dec. 14th. I have just received it ; for, as the date will 
show, I am far from home. My wife's health induced 
me to place her within the Tropics this winter ; and I 
was willing to come myself, not only that I might see a 
" new nature," for such you find here, but that I might 
escape the severe trial of the cold season at home — a trial 
under which I nearly sank last year. Perhaps you have 
heard all this from Miss Taylor, to whom I wrote a few 
weeks ago. By the way, do you know that you are likely 
to have a rival in your friend Miss T. ? She writes me 
letters almost as interesting as yours. Do not, however, 
be jealous. It is not true in the moral, as in the physical 
world, that one light puts out another. I find that new 
excellence gives me new sensibility to that which I have 
known and loved before. Certain it is that you and 
your letters are as interesting as ever, and I wish you 
knew how much so, for then you would find time to 
write to me oftener. 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



61 



Your last gave me your views on a subject which 
presses on my mincl with great weight, — I mean the 
condition of your country : and it was more eagerly read 
because here, in this little island — cut off by its position, 
and still more by the despotism which rules it, from the 
Old and New World — not a man can be found who has 
any comprehension or feelings of what is passing in the 
world. The great events abroad are of course known, 
but as for the sympathy which a human being ought to 
feel with the struggles, misfortunes and successes of his 
race, it seems to me wholly wanting. I think you ascribe 
your present convulsions too much to temporary causes. 
No doubt your superabundant population, Poor-laws, 
&c. &c, have their influence. But the great cause seems 
to me deeper. Ton are suffering from the hostility which 
subsists between your present state of society and the 
intelligence, the moral sentiments and general improve- 
ment, of the people. New and great ideas are stirring 
among you, which find little congenial with themselves 
in your institutions. That the general weal is the end 
of social institutions, is an old doctrine ; but that the 
general weal is one and the same thing with the im- 
provement and happiness of the mass of the people, has 
been very imperfectly understood. That the multitude, 
because the multitude, are the most important part of the 
community, is quite a new doctrine, and far from being 
comprehended in all its bearings. In England, the wor- 
ship of the great has been the national religion, so that 
the new light, the juster estimate of human beings which 
is spreading among you, is an element of irreconcilable 
hostility thrown among your institutions, and will allow 
you no peace till it shall have brought things into some 
degree of harmony with itself. You say, " Here we are 
in an English revolution." You are only in the beginning 
of one. The reform which must take place in Parliament, 



62 



TO MISS AIKIIST. 



and which will take the House of Commons out of the 
hands of the aristocracy and make it the organ of public 
opinion, will be as truly a revolution as if you were to 
make your government a republic or despotism. That 
you are in danger, I believe ; and your danger seems to 
me to rise from the two extreme parties, the aristocracy 
and the radicals. The first will hold fast what they 
ought to concede, and the latter will insist on what 
ought not to be conceded. Could the aristocracy know 
their true position and catch a little magnanimity, it 
seems to me they might not only save the country, but 
raise it to new grandeur. I recollect that when in En- 
gland I had some conversation with Mr. Southey on the 
perils which hung over your constitution, and among 
other things I observed to him that the time had come 
in which the aristocracy could only sustain itself by public 
spirit and by sacrifices to the public good ; that its mem- 
bers ought to wake from their self-indulgence ; that to 
secure their hereditary distinctions and wealth they 
must regard and sacredly use them as high trusts com- 
mitted to them for the well-being of the State, so as to 
conciliate to them public confidence and favour. Your 
account of the manner in which the House of Lords 
received Mr. Brougham's speech on Legal Eeform is a 
bad omen. They do not discern the signs of the times. 
They ought to be the first to carry justice to the poor 
man's door ; the first to lighten the public burdens, to 
improve the character and condition of the people, so as 
to be recognized as the most distinguished benefactors 
to the State. The old relation of the aristocracy to the 
State was that of leaders and protectors in war. This 
has passed away, as well as the state of society of which 
it was so important a part. Can an equivalent relation 
take its place ? If not, the aristocracy must go down. 
In truth, the progress of society is characterized by 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



63 



nothing more than by the subversion of all distinctions 
but personal ones. Men will cease to pass for more than 
they are worth. Woe then to the privileged classes, for 
the direct tendency of hereditary rank is to make men 
worth very little. I have little expectation that the 
aristocracy will understand their true position. They 
will probably fight an insane war against improvement 
in which they ought to be leaders, and thus will give 
their adversaries the better side. It will not be the first 
instance of the highest classes playing into the hands of 
the lowest. This is one of your dangers. Another, I 
fear, is, that your public men do not understand the 
greatness of the times in which they are acting. In the 
last number of the " Edinburgh Review," which I suppose 
to be the chief organ of the ruling party, I thought I 
discovered much more the tone of partizans than of men 
alive to the grandeur of the interests which are now at 
stake. — In looking over my letter I see that I have 
written too dogmatically. I rather intended to give you 
my views, that I may obtain yours. I am too far from 
you to judge of the true state of your country, and 
perhaps my error always is that I overlook details, and 
judge too much by general principles. Help to correct 
me. 

I have left some interesting parts of your letter un- 
answered, but will not inflict another sheet on you. Do 
write to me as soon as you can, and address to me in 
my own country. 

Tour sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Chaining. 



64 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hainpstead, May 1, 1831. 

Very happy was I, my dear friend, to hear from you 
again. There was no getting any tidings about you. I 
could not even learn for certain where you were, and I 
was anxious to learn how the change of climate had 
answered to you and Mrs. Channing in point of health. 
Boston is quite an easy distance to think of in compa- 
rison of that little out-of-the-world island which I never 
heard of before, and could scarcely hunt out upon the 
map. And Emily Taylor had not written me a word 
about you, for which I will scold her ; but I will not be 
jealous of her, because I love her dearly — a purer or 
more amiable mind I do not know ; she loves a joke, 
too, and we are very merry whenever we meet. 

I have not been travelling for health, but keeping the 
house for it, which is worse. It is nearly three months 
since I have seen London, and I have been almost 
entirely disabled from writing, but I am again recovering. 
Great public events have occurred since I wrote last ; 
on the whole, I think our position improved. The 
peasant risings are completely quelled ; the Eeform Bill 
absorbs all political feeling. It is a noble measure, and 
one which, when carried, will deserve to be revered as a 
new Magna Charta. It will render Parliament indeed 
the organ of the people, and put, I believe, an effectual 
check upon the corrupt and oppressive influence of the 
aristocracy. You express a natural apprehension that 
our aristocracy should not discern the signs of the times 
sufficiently to lead the people the way that they must 
and will go. Certainly many are even now blindly 
striving to resist what is inevitable ; but the terrible 
examples of France have not been lost on the privileged 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



65 



orders in general, and many individuals have shown 
themselves actuated by a sense of justice and of true 
patriotism, which is of the best augury for the country. 
But the conduct of the King is our grand piece of good 
fortune, and a most unexpected one. A patriot King ! 
Once in a millennium such a phcenix is seen on earth- 
Alfred was our last. A levity in the manners of Ms 
Majesty had caused him to be suspected of an unsound 
head, but he has under this a plain good sense, and, what 
is better still, a real love of seeing his people happy, 
which in this instance has led him admirably right. His 
appeal to the people on this great question has utterly 
disarmed radicalism. The mob are ever king- worshippers 
in all monarchical countries, and ours may be led any- 
where to the tune of our " National Anthem." Hunt 
and O'Connell hide their diminished heads ; against a 
king, and a sailor-king too, they are less than nothing. 
On the liigher classes, also, Iris influence is very con- 
siderable, and I feel almost confident that the measure 
will be triumphantly carried in the new Parliament. I 
agree with you that the want of harmony between ancient 
institutions and modern light is the general cause of 
commotion both in this country and throughout Jp/urope, 
and that the only general remedy is to be sought in a 
comprehensive reform of institutions ; but the particular 
or immediately exciting causes are various ; and to these 
the attention of eye-witnesses is most directed, as being 
those over which events, or what are unphilosophically 
called accidents, have power. Thus, I should say, the 
general progress of society must bring us Parliamentary 
Eeform during this generation; but the accident of a 
George or a William on the throne, a good or bad harvest, 
a prosperous or depressed state of trade, Whig or Tory 
ministry, may make all the difference of our obtaining 
it safely and peaceably, or through revolution and civil 



66 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



war. But it is, in the main, the cause of the many 
against that of the few. I have convinced myself of this, 
and am become in consequence an ardent reformer. I 
boast of this as a self-conquest. Women are natural 
aristocrats, depend upon it ; and many a reproach have 
I sustained from my father for what he called my " odi 
profanum valgus." The rude manners, trenchant tone 
and barbarous slang of the ordinary Eadicals, as well as 
the selfish ends and gross knavery which many of them 
strive to conceal under professions of zeal for all the best 
interests of mankind, are so inexpressibly disgusting to 
me, that in some moods I have wished to be divided 
from them far as pole from pole. On the other hand, 
the captivating manners of the aristocracy, the splendour 
which surrounds them, the taste for heraldry and pedi- 
gree which I have picked up in the course of my studies, 
and the flattering attentions which my writings have 
sometimes procured me from them, are strong bribes on 
the side of ancient privilege; but, as I said before, I 
have fought and conquered; and I confess that "the 
greatest good of the greatest number" is what alone is 
entitled to consideration, however unpoetical the phrase 
and the pedantic sect of which it is the watchword. 

Of the integrity of the Chancellor, all distrust should 
cease. He has resisted more temptations than any public 
man in the country. An intense love of glory he cer- 
tainly has, but it is for glory of the true sort. He is 
magnanimous and philanthropic; and these two last 
words I cannot write without being reminded to beg you 
to read the Life of Dr. Currie by his son. I knew the 
man — he was my father's friend — and the impression of 
the benefit and delight I received at an early age from 
his society and under his roof, will be one of the very 
last I can ever lose. I think him to have been one of 
the best and noblest of mankind, and the wisest I ever 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



67 



conversed with. And with these great qualities there 
was an elegance and tenderness of mind, a spirit of 
poetry, and a shade of constitutional melancholy invest- 
ing the whole, which rendered him interesting beyond 
expression. Many of his letters are given in this work, 
and they are the man himself. The memoir has the very 
rare merit, from a filial hand, of being perfectly free from 
exaggeration — the simple truth. There are many matters 
in the book which will interest you. Currie was a wide 
as well as a deep thinker — few subjects of human specu- 
lation escaped him. 

And now let me tell you how I have been attempting 
to fill up one of those languid pauses of existence in 
which one has little to do but to wait for the return of 
health and strength in patience, deceiving the long, and 
in my case lonely, hours as best one may. I have been 
reading metaphysics. And this was your doing: the 
mention which you make, I forget in which piece of 
yours, of the theory of Berkeley, excited my curiosity, 
and I have been reading him with great admiration of 
his ingenuity and his beautiful style, and wonder that 
so much is to be said for what seems at first view so 
chimerical. I have since been reading Priestley's " Dis- 
quisitions on Matter and Spirit," and his correspondence 
with Price. And what is the result ? Why, that I am 
perplexed and confounded — utterly unable to take a side 
or form an opinion on subjects which seem to me, indeed, 
placed beyond the scope of human knowledge — yet 
pleased and proud that the human mind should dare 
to entertain such thoughts, to soar to such heights and 
sound such depths. Oh! the mind of man must be 
formed for progress, eternal progress; else why these 
thoughts beyond the measure of his frame ? If the 
strengthening of this conviction were the sole result of 
pursuits like these, they were well and amply recom- 



68 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



pensecl; but I have found in them other uses. They 
give me a more intimate sense of the all-pervading pre- 
sence and agency of the one Cause. I did not before, if 
I may so speak, feel how very near it is — how closely it 
encompasses us on all sides. Second causes extend no 
way at all : they can account for nothing, effect nothing. 
I always saw that there was something amiss with 
Hume's famous argument against miracles, but I did not 
well know what — now I do ; and now I feel the full 
force of your sentence, that it is " essentially atheistical/' 
That imposing term, the laws of nature, may easily lead 
to great misconception. The correspondence of Price 
and Priestley is further interesting as a very beautiful 
exhibition of two characters of great but different endow- 
ments. Both have great acuteness, both great extent 
and variety of knowledge to bring in illustration of their 
topic ; but the caution of Price, fertile in objections, is 
remarkably contrasted with the precipitation of Priestley, 
with whom " once to doubt" was " once to be resolved." 
Priestley was the more original thinker, the greater 
genius ; but he could not feel difficulties ; neither, indeed, 
on his own favourite topics could Price, whose political 
theories warped even his calculations. I have a vivid 
memory of Priestley, the friend of my father, the dearer 
and more intimate friend of my aunt, Mrs. Barbauld. In 
his manners he had all the calmness and simplicity of a 
true philosopher ; he was cheerful, even playful, and I 
still see the benignant smile with which he greeted us 
little ones. It pleased me to find you referring to him 
when you mention Berkeley. I know you have disap- 
proved him on some points — you differ on many ; but 
you are brothers in the assertion of intellectual freedom, 
and the earnest search after and unhesitating avowal of 
truth. Oh ! the noble, the glorious beings whom it has 
been my privilege to see and know ! What would life 



TO DK. CHANNING. 



69 



be without the connaerce of superior minds ? what earth 
without " the salt of the earth " ? And let us rely upon 
it that times like these will bring forth men equal to 
them. France is decidedly taking a higher moral station ; 
and those gallant Poles, they will redeem their country. 
Here, too, I see much to rejoice in. Great borough 
owners, the Duke of Norfolk at their head, coming for- 
ward with alacrity to make the sacrifice of them to their 
country. Lord Grey — whose canvassing of Northumber- 
land in former days was called Coriolanus acted to the 
life — the author of the great Bill. Lord J. Eussell doing 
honour to his patriot line and to the tuition of excellent 
Playfair, whom I once saw him, in an Edinburgh party, 
pulling along by the skirt of his coat to be introduced 
to a lady of quality. (A little puny man is this Lord 
John, with a very small voice ; sound sense his leading 
characteristic, and his style of expression simple, ener- 
getic and rigidly concise.) In middle life there seems 
to be a good deal of real patriotism. Even members of 
close corporations have sided with the public ; and what 
is more, so have some of the clergy. It is observable 
that there is now scarcely a whisper raised of the Church 
in danger — when its peril was less, the cry of Wolf ! was 
ten times louder. The lawyers, for the most part, take 
the reforming side. I scan not their motives. Both 
universities patronize darkness — but I blush most for 
the poets. A good while ago I saw Wordsworth in anxious 
museful mood, talking rather to himself than the com- 
pany, as is his manner, against general education, and 
then bursting out: "I don't see the use of all those 
prayers they make the children say after their fugleman. 
Either it will give them a profane aversion to the whole 
thing, or make them hypocrites," — in which I mutually 
agreed. Now, I hear, he says that if the Bill passes he 
shall fly his country. But whither, alas ? Eevolution 



70 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



may pursue him to Spain or Eussia. And so ends my 
voluminous budget. 

Believe me ever, very truly yours, 

L. Aikix. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, June 22, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Give me joy on my safe return 
home. I enjoyed much on that little " out-of-the-world 
island" which you could hardly find on the map. But 
the balmy airs, bright suns, clear skies, and new and 
beautiful vegetation of the Tropics, could not conquer 
the instinct of country ; and I was never more grateful 
than now for the sight of my native shores. I gained 
nothing in health, and perhaps I am not to hope for this ; 
but I escaped a tremendous winter, under which I might 
have sunk. I wonder that the English, with their fine 
island Jamaica, do not visit the Tropics for health, instead 
of Italy. In Italy you have a half- winter, which is very 
trying ; but in the West Indies there is not a sign or 
hint of that season. I incline, however, to think that 
the sick English will do well to keep at home, to keep 
in the land of comforts. These are as important as 
climate, and your southern coast is so mild that the 
consumptive may take the ah 1 freely most of the year. 
I am more and more satisfied that a degree of humidity 
is not as injurious in consumption as was once thought. 
Though I have found many comforts abroad, I have 
learned that home is the place for the sick — I mean 
the really sick. In incipient disease, and especially in 
disease where the mind plays a large part, travelling, 
change of objects, is often the best medicine. I wish 
your travellers would go to the West Indies to learn 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



71 



better the true evils of slavery. I know not a subject 
on which half-knowledge is more dangerous to legislators. 
I wonder that philanthropy, which is one of your fashions, 
does not come in aid of your restlessness, another En- 
glish characteristic, and of the desire to see a new nature, 
and divert a part of your travellers to the land of slaves 
and palm-trees, of the sugar-cane and the acacia. I forgot 
to say, in speaking of my health, that it was not my 
motive for visiting the West Indies. I went to protract 
a life dearer than my own. My wife had long been 
losing strength under rheumatic complaints, and I re- 
solved to make for her sake one great effort, and am 
happy to tell you that she has found a good deal of 
relief. 

I thank you for your last letter, addressed to me in 
this country. I sympathize with you heartily on " Ee- 
form." I have thought since I last wrote you that I 
had viewed the measure as more revolutionary than it 
really is. In other words, it is only the continuance 
of a great revolutionary movement which has long been 
going on, and is by no means so great a step as is thought. 
For a long time power has been changing hands in En- 
gland, or silently passing over to the people. Since Mr. 
Canning's adoption of more liberal views, public opinion 
has been continually manifesting itself as the destined, 
if not actual, sovereign ; and the reform is only providing 
an appropriate adequate organ for this vast and growing 
power. Some means of action it must have. Hitherto it 
has operated through the press, by petition, by clamour ; 
and it has been more clamorous because it could act no 
other way. Give it a legal, constitutional, natural, fit 
organ, and such representation is, and will be, much less 
liable to excess. 

I am not surprised at the opposition to this measure. 
The High-birth and High-church party are, and must be 



72 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



(in the language of theology), <c judicially blinded." To 
know how and when to give up power is a wisdom above 
their reach. Indeed, it is one of the hardest lessons for 
human nature under our present false institutions. I 
do wonder, however, that men can welcome and multiply 
causes, and then fight against their effects. Among your 
Tories, I suppose, are not a few who really rejoice in the 
diffusion of wealth and intelligence through your country ; 
and yet how can a people grow rich and intelligent 
without taking a new interest in their government — 
without subjecting it to a strict scrutiny, and gaining an 
influence over it which they must always desire to ex- 
tend ? In giving wealth and intelligence, you give power ; 
and a power which will assume a political direction more 
certainly than any other. No law of nature is surer ; and 
yet there are those who think themselves the wise, who, 
instead of aiming to make this power a beneficent one, 
and to bring it into harmony with existing institutions, 
are making war with it and irritating it by blind opposi- 
tion. I want nothing more to satisfy me of the expedi- 
ency of reform than the general consideration that it 
springs necessarily from the improvement of the com- 
munity in wealth and knowledge. It is a want of a 
people who are rising in civilization. They who do not 
so view it, ought at least to see that, be it good or bad, 
come it will and must ; and that wisdom and patriotism 
call them to make the best terms with it in their power. 
I expressed to you my regret at the blindness of your 
aristocracy, because I should deem anything like revolu- 
tion among you a tremendous evil, and I think it may 
be averted by wisdom in the higher order. England, 
with all her defects, and though less in advance of other 
nations than formerly, is still the first country on earth 
(nothing but truth would wring this acknowledgment 
from a Eepublican), and I cannot bear the thought of 



TO MISS AIKIK 



73 



her encountering the chances of a violent change. < I ask 
no quicker growth of Eepublican principles among you 
than is now going on ; nor am I such a bigot as to insist 
on the expression of these principles in forms and insti- 
tutions like our own. To these forms they will come at 
last, for every principle seeks its most natural manifesta- 
tion ; but they may exist for an age or more under other 
forms, and this is better than the hazard of civil com- 
motion. Let society go on as it has done, and your 
hereditary distinctions will die a natural death. They 
cannot stand against the moral power which is establish- 
ing itself by the aid of the press, education, and a more 
rational religion ; and to this mild but sure innovator I 
am willing to leave them. 

The debates on the Eeform question seemed to me 
very indifferent. Are they tolerably reported ? Amidst 
the debates and declamation I found it hard to pick out 
a general principle, or find any large views. The tone 
of confidence was on the side of the anti-reformers. I 
commend the Eeformers for abstaining from all promise 
of great immediate relief to the suffering classes through 
this measure. Such relief it cannot bring. The evil is 
too deep, I fear, for legislative remedies. When I look 
at the distress of the labouring classes, I feel the need 
of some great change in our social system. It is not 
right that so many of our fellow-creatures should be 
abandoned to want bordering on famine, to ignorance 
and degrading vices, whilst so many of us are rioting in 
plenty. There is a great fault somewhere. Some deeper 
reform than that of Parliament is needed. But this sub- 
ject is as vast as it is painful. I will not trust myself 
with it. I have a great deal more to say, especially 
about your aristocratic partialities, which you have found 
it hard to overcome. They are founded partially in 

E 



74 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



truth, and are better than some levelling systems. But 
I cannot give my views now. 

I rejoice in your metaphysical studies. I feared you 
were to be found among the scorners of that noble branch 
of philosophy. 

Tell me if my letter is illegible. Mrs. Channing, who 
generally dots my "i's" and finishes my half-formed 
letters, is absent. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Chaining. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, June 28, 1831. 

It is so agreeable a thing to me, my dear distant 
friend, to communicate to you my impressions of passing 
events, with the assurance, too, that I am doing what is 
acceptable to you, that I have felt impatient to amass 
materials for a second letter. But from my parlour sofa, 
to which I have been very much confined, I could only 
send you what my neighbours brought to me ; within 
the last two or three months alone I have been enabled 
to go a little into society myself, and I now offer you my 
gleanings. 

Parliamentary Eeform is secure — the Tories may give 
some trouble by their factious opposition, but that is all 
they can do. The people have shown thems'elves much 
more zealous and united in the cause than public men 
on either side of the question were prepared to find them. 
The question therefore now is — what next ? According 
to your prediction, we seem destined to proceed in the 
career of reformation until all our institutions shall have 
undergone a transformation. The friends of the Church 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



75 



dread that its turn will come next, and there are many 
tokens of it. A stinging " Letter to the Archbishop of 
York" has appeared, and the demand for it has been 
such as the printer could not keep pace with. The 
author declaims somewhat idly on the contrast between 
modern and primitive bishops — then inveighs with greater 
force against the alliance of Church and State, and its 
corrupting effects on the clergy ; exposes their views 
broadly, and indignantly exclaims that a moral and reli- 
gious people can no longer away with such unfaithful 
shepherds ; and in the end boldly announces the fall of 
the Irish Establishment within one year, and the English 
within ten years. 

Mr. Beverley, the author, whom I know a little, is a 
very elegant classic, a good writer, and a gentleman, but 
wild and eccentric to the brink of insanity. After many 
vagaries, he has just turned Methodist preacher. His 
pamphlet contains nothing like a reasonable plan for the 
settlement of religious affairs, but it is deeply imbued 
with the spirit of the Evangelical sect. It is professedly, 
at least, in love and reverence to religion that he would 
divorce the Church from the State, and place it on the 
common level of sects ; and the extraordinary popularity 
of his piece seems to show that the large and zealous 
party to which he belongs are beginning to perceive how 
much the forms and the discipline of a church constructed 
on the model of the Romish — that is, on the taste of 
the middle ages — are at variance with the spirit of the 
present day, and hostile to their plans of empire over the 
minds of the people at large. I conceive that enthusiasm 
will always strive to burst through the fetters of articles 
and liturgies. I hear just now that the unpopularity of 
tithes is the chief cause of the currency of this piece. 
Another new and startling feature begins to appear. 
Hitherto both the Methodists and the Church Evangeli- 

E 2 



76 



TO BE, CHAINING. 



cals have been distinguished by their indifference to civil 
liberty, and their attachment to " the powers that be f 
lately they seem to have entered into coalition with the 
Radicals — at least, the lower class of Methodists, consist- 
ing chiefly of journeymen mechanics and other labourers 
in towns, are engaged in the strikes for wages which have 
been so frequent and formidable, and which their masters 
regard as the worst sign of radicalism. 

The Marquis of Londonderry, a great coal-owner in 
the North, went lately and demanded a conference with 
the leader of the Newcastle turn-outs. He was referred 
to a person who proved to be a Methodist preacher, and 
who absolutely insisted upon the Marquis joining him 
in prayer (an exercise to which his lordship is little 
addicted) before he would proceed to business. 

I own I am not quite pleased with the prospect of a 
second reign of the saints, for their rigour and intolerance 
go beyond the High-church themselves ; but there would 
be hope, I think, if the Establishment were overthrown 
or considerably shaken, that a liberal party in religion 
might rise in some strength. I believe it is already pretty 
numerous, but shy of showing itself. 

In the intervals of politics we talk of the Christian 
Brahmin, Eammohun Eoy. All accounts agree in repre- 
senting him as a person of extraordinary merit. With 
very great intelligence and ability, he unites a modesty 
and simplicity which win all hearts. He has a very 
great command of the language, and seems perfectly well 
versed in the political state of Europe, and an ardent 
well-wisher to the cause of freedom and improvement 
everywhere. To his faith he has been more than a 
martyr. On his conversion to Christianity his mother 
cursed him, and his wife (or wives) and children all 
forsook Mm. He had grievous oppressions to endure 
from the Church party on turning Unitarian. This was 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



at Calcutta ; here it is determined to court him. Two 
bishops have noticed him, and the East-India Company 
show him all civilities. But his heart is with his bre- 
thren in opinion, with whom chiefly he spends his time. 
I hear of him this remarkable saving, that the three 
countries in Europe which appear even less prepared 
than Asia for a liberal system of religion, are Spain, 
Portugal, and England. 

You will read, I think, with interest, and in part 
with great satisfaction, Godwin's new volume, entitled 
" Thoughts on Man." Probably it will prove the last 
fruit of his mind, for he is now rather nearer eighty 
than seventy, and I believe declining. vVith all his 
extravagances of opinion, some of which in the early 
part of his career did considerable mischief and threatened 
more, I have always entertained a respect for some parts 
of his character, as well as a high admiration of his 
powers ; and felt sincere pity for the long misfortunes 
in which partly his own errors, but still more the pro- 
scription of society, have involved him. I believe he 
justly describes him self in his new work as " one who 
early said to truth, Go on ; whithersoever thou leadest, 
I am prepared to follow." And is not this of itself a 
noble character of a man ? It was remarkable in him 
that the reasoning powers seemed to have been developed 
long before the sensitive part of his nature. Thus his 
system was originally constructed with a total disregard 
of the passions, the affections, and almost the instincts, 
of mankind. But it was beautiful to observe him, in his 
own experience of the tenderest ties of life, gradually 
expanding his groundwork to give admission to private 
and partial affections, and at length doing, as it were, 
public penance for the slanders which he had uttered 
against them in his days of ignorance. Those noble 
and rare virtues amongst the founders and champions 



78 



TO DE. CHANGING. 



of systems — candour and ingenuousness, have always 
attended him. And they have produced to him good 
fruit. They have enabled him, after discarding one error 
after another, to work out for himself principles which, 
in the midst of degrading embarrassments, and even of 
domestic dishonour, have preserved to himself respect, 
philanthropy, and cheering views of the character and 
destination of man. This volume is a repository of 
thoughts on .many subjects, often I think original, often 
just as well as striking, and frequently expressed with 
great eloquence. He everywhere shows himself " lenior 
et melior." Do not almost all men grow better as they 
grow older ? I was pleased to find poet Crabbe main- 
taining that they do, which from the tone of his writings 
I did not expect. Have you ever met with any writings 
of Paul Louis Courier ? If not, you will know all about 
him from the very able notice of him and his works 
which appeared some time ago in the "Edinburgh 
Eeview." I have just been reading a selection of his 
political pamphlets, and with extraordinary admiration. 
His style is like that of Pascal, but still more lively and 
striking. A sharp thorn he must have been in the sides 
of the restored Bourbons, with their priest and emigrant 
faction — and it was this, probably, which caused his 
assassination. I had no knowledge, till I read his pieces, 
how the system of the Eestoration had worked; but the 
oppression was terrible, especially in the provinces remote 
from the control of the public opinion of Paris. The 
maires and prefets, themselves slaves of the court, the 
ministers, or the J esuits, were so many despots over the 
peasantry and middle class, and carried on a frightful 
persecution against the means and the principles of the 
Eevolution. I see here abundant explanation and vindi- 
cation of the Eevolution of last July, and I judge the 
men who planned and achieved it to have been true bene- 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



79 



factors to their country. Courier strongly asserts, what 
you likewise hold, the vast improvement of the national 
character since 1789. Possessed of personal liberty and 
a share in the soil of his country, the peasant has become 
industrious almost to excess, frugal and, generally speak- 
ing, moral ; he has the virtues of a labourer in exchange 
for the vices of a laquais or the abjectness of a serf. It 
is from intimate views of private life in various ages and 
countries that the moral of political history is alone to 
be derived — and without this, what is the value of long 
tales of wars and conquests, and one king deposing and 
succeeding another, and republics changed into monar- 
chies, and monarchies into republics ? This principle 
has been always in my view in writing my u King 
Charles," and will impart, I think, its chief merit to my 
book ; that is, should health and vigour be lent me for 
its completion. I have hope of it now; but I have been 
sorely tried by repeated disappointments on this head, 
and sometimes I have reached the very verge of despon- 
dency, and I have wished for the termination of a suf- 
fering and useless existence — my spirit beat itself against 
the bars of its cage. Then again I have called to my 
aid all I could summon of philosophy and religion, and 
I have soothed my soul by prayer. 

I should like to know what you take to be the origin 
of the almost universal belief amongst mankind of a 
future state — was there, think you, a revelation to our 
first progenitors, of which all nations preserved some 
tradition ? Or did it result from the reasonings of man 
upon the moral differences between individuals of the 
human race, not always accompanied here by correspond- 
ing rewards and punishments ? Or was the wish for 
re-union with departed friends father to that belief ? Or 
is it (with Locke's pardon) an innate idea, an instinct ? 
I think there is something mysterious — something, if I 



80 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



may so express myself, sui generis — in so strong and 
general a persuasion, contrary to all appearances and 
unsupported by any real analogies. I should like to 
believe it a revelation ; but there are difficulties. 

I must not conclude without telling you some news of 
yourself. A friend of mine, just returned from Geneva, 
met there M. Vincent, Protestant minister at Msmes, a 
liberal and worthy man, who deplored the ignorance and 
narrowness of his flock, still buried in the gloom of Cal- 
vinism. He had set up a journal, in which, by mingling 
theology with literary criticism and general topics, he 
was gently insinuating into them more enlightened 
notions. My friend asked if he knew your writings, and 
finding he did not, she gave him several of them. In the 
first number of his journal, after his return, appeared as 
the leading article a translation of your sermon on the 
Eesemblance of Man to his Maker. Thus the good seed 
is sown — you may water it if you think proper. I hear 
from further evidence that in several parts of France a 
simple form of Protestant worship, with liberal doctrine, 
would be highly acceptable to the people. 

Have you heard of our absurd sect of Millenarians ? 
Some say the end of the world is to be in the year 1860, 
others only give us to 1836, and one gentleman has actu- 
ally turned his property into an annuity for six years. 

Pray let me hear particularly of your health. 

Yours, with the truest esteem, 

L. Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

July 14, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I wrote you a few days ago, but 
having a strong inducement send you another letter, 
which I trust will be of more moderate dimensions than 



TO MISS AIKEN. 



81 



my last. This will be handed you by a very dear friend 
of mine, Mrs. Farrar, a lady who does not perhaps need 
an introduction, as you knew her several years ago when 
she bore the name of Miss Eotch. She now visits En- 
gland in company with JVlr. Farrar, who is the Professor 
of Natural Philosophy in Harvard University, the most 
distinguished institution in our country, and who holds 
a high rank among our scientific men. He is singularly 
happy in communicating knowledge, and as a lecturer 
perhaps has not his equal here. I am sorry to say that 
the indisposition under which he suffers seems to have 
taken from his energy of mind as well as body. We trust 
that entire rest from his labour will restore him. 

In your last letter you wrote about Price and Priestley. 
I wish you would give me some light about the latter. 
I have always esteemed him a good man, but I have had 
many doubts of his moral greatness. It is not a good 
sign when a man carries out his speculations without the 
least fear or hesitation, when they seem to shock the 
highest moral principles. Now Priestley's system of 
materialism, of necessity, and of the derivation of all our 
moral sentiments from sensations variously modified by 
association, does seem to strike a blow at our most inti- 
mate and strongest moral convictions, whilst it robs our 
nature of all its grandeur. Yet Priestley not only vindi- 
cated it as true, but entered into it with his whole soul. 
I cannot easily reconcile this with clear moral perception 
or deep moral feeling. I think of him as a man of amia- 
bleness rather than sensibility. The terrible amount of 
physical and moral evil in the world never seems to have 
weighed upon or burdened his mind. He imagined that 
he had got to the bottom of this mystery : he met it with 
an optimism more favourable to Epicurean tranquillity 
than to Christian sympathy and self-sacrifice. I have 
sometimes thought him a self-complacent, self-satisfied 

E 3 



82 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



man, whose speculations were tinged by this quality of 
his mind. I am not now expressing my deliberate con- 
victions, so much as suggestions and suspicions which 
cross my mind when I hear of Priestley. I am most 
willing to have my prejudices, if such they are, removed. 
I am fully sensible to his intellectual claims, to the 
range, rapidity and fruitfulness of his mind, to the beau- 
tiful simplicity and transparency of his style, &c. ; and 
I know the impression his character made on his friends. 
Still he is not to me morally great. Price I have always 
delighted in. His book on Morals, though little read, 
took a strong hold on me in my youth, and helped to fix 
my moral convictions at that critical age. Here is a 
subject for a letter. I have another subject for you. I 
lately received a letter from Dr. William King, of Brighton, 
accompanying a series of papers called the " Co-operator/' 
Dr. K/s letter breathes a spirit of such pure philanthropy 
that I shall answer him immediately, and in the language 
of confidence in which a good man should be addressed. 
Still I should like to know something more of him, and 
something of this scheme of co-operation. Its object is 
the true one, and must be accomplished in some way or 
other. But whether this means be a wise one may be 
questioned. I trust that health is returning to you, and 
that I shall soon hear it from yourself. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August 27, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I thank you for your letter of 
June 28. I trust that before this you have found that 
you are not writing two letters for one. You tell me 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



83 



reform is sure. Of this I have no doubt. Good or bad, 
it must be conceded. I am not enough acquainted with 
^our state to judge how far its provisions will extend 
the elective franchise. My only doubt about the measure 
has been in relation to this point. In this country the 
right of suffrage is next to universal, It may be said, 
everybody votes. But our situation differs from yours. 
Our people are used to the right. Then an immense 
majority have property, and are directly and strongly 
interested in the support of order and the laws. The 
breaking up of estates on the death of the owner, which 
almost always takes place, and the means of gaining 
property which our people possess in their education, in 
their early habits of industry, in the abundance of un- 
settled lands, in the immense undeveloped resources of 
the country, and in the absence of all obstructions to the 
freest use of men's powers, — these causes produce an 
equal and general distribution of property nowhere else 
known. Then the vast majority of our citizens may be 
called educated; and this we owe partly to a very 
honourable cause, our public provisions for instruction 
of all classes, and partly to what is our greatest reproach, 
I mean slavery. In the slave states, the only voters are 
the masters, and these from their condition enjoy many 
advantages of education of which they generally avail 
themselves. We have another security in the very extent 
of our country, which prevents sudden universal excite- 
ments, and scatters, as it were, the sensibility and inte- 
rest of the community over a variety of objects. In 
these respects you differ from us. You have much more 
wealth, and many more poor ; much more learning, and 
many more ignorant; and then your population is so 
dense, and communication is so rapid, that a clay is 
enough to set the kingdom on fire. I have much con- 
fidence, however, in your leading men, and in their ability 



84 



TO MISS AIKIN\ 



to adapt this great measure to the state of the country. 
In glancing over what I have written, I see that I have 
been guilty of something like a contradiction, for I have 
spoken of our enjoying universal suffrage, and in the 
next breath have spoken of the right of suffrage as con- 
fined to masters. I forgot that the slave was a part of 
the community having the rights of a man — so easily do 
established abuses obscure our perceptions. I now per- 
ceive that we have less cause than I supposed of boasting 
of the extension of the elective franchise here ; for if our 
slaves are men, what a vast number do we exclude ! 

On this subject of slavery, you are far in advance of 
us. I almost envy your country the pure glory it has 
won by its sympathy with the oppressed negro. In 
truth, when I think of the state of the public mind here 
in regard to slavery, my national pride dies within me. 
Never did a people deserve chains more than we, who 
are vaunting of our freedom and holding one or two 
millions in bondage. This is truly our foulest blot, and 
I fear nothing will rouse us up to wash it aw^ay but the 
deep, stern, irresistible indignation of the civilized world. 

In regard to your Church reform, it will be superficial 
for the present. Much good may, indeed, be done by a 
more equal distribution of Church revenues ; but then 
the religion of the Thirty-nine Articles, which hangs as 
a millstone on the intellect and character of the nation, 
will continue to be taught. The object should be (con- 
sidering what your Church is) to turn as much of these 
revenues as possible to education. The schoolmaster 
should take the place of the priest By the way, have 
you ever considered that the minister of Christianity is 
nowhere in the New Testament called priest ; that this 
term, which is very seldom used, is applied to the whole 
"body of Christians ; that there is no more reason for the 
distinction between clergy and laity than between lawyers 



TO MISS AIKHST, 



85 



and laity, or physicians and laity, and that the whole 
separation made between the clergy and the rest of society 
is unauthorized by our religion. I mention this, for it 
seems to me no mean proof of the divine wisdom of the 
Founder of Christianity. The office of religious teacher, 
properly understood, and so used as to promote intellec- 
tual, moral, spiritual freedom, is the very noblest and 
most useful on earth ; but priestly usurpation, which, 
by the way, is as rife out of the Establishment as in it, 
seems to me at the present moment a great obstruction 
to the progress of religion and society. 

I have not seen Godwin s last book, but will seek for 
it. There are some errors which show such a strange 
obliquity of intellect as to destroy my confidence in the 
judgment of those who adopt them. Godwin does not 
believe in a God, and such a mind must be as unsound 
as one which should not believe in the existence of the 
sun. 

You ask me what I think to be the origin of the 
common belief in a future life. I go back to a primitive 
revelation of the doctrine, for we know that the first 
man must have received some direct instruction from his 
Creator, and it is natural to believe that he would be 
taught the great end or purpose of his being. I conceive, 
however, that revelation would be of no avail towards 
securing permanent and universal reception to a doctrine, 
unless that doctrine were founded in and congenial with 
our nature. All the great principles of human nature 
seem to me to demand and promise a future life. The 
reason, the conscience, the affections, all alike cry aloud 
for it. It is revealed to us especially in the capacity for 
moral and intellectual progress without end, and in the 
thirst for a higher existence which always grows in 
proportion to the right use and enlargement of the 
faculties. All the attributes of God, His wisdom, justice 



86 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



and goodness, point to another existence, and seem to 
require it for their own bright and full manifestation. 
The present life bears all the marks of an incipient, in- 
complete state, and constantly leads us to something 
beyond itself as its explanation and end. I think, too, 
that there is something still deeper in support of im- 
mortality. The mind which is just to itself, in the course 
of its development attains to a consciousness of its des- 
tination, to a pre-conception and conviction of its future 
perfection, power, glory, which it cannot communicate 
except to those who experience it. I could add much 
more, but perhaps I have answered your question. Your 
letters give me so much to write about that I continually 
pass my bounds, but you are a patient reader. 

Very affectionately yours, 

Wm. E. Channing. 

The account you give me of the favourable reception 
of my writings in France is very cheering and encou- 
raging to me. I am solicitous to get some accurate views 
of the state and prospects of religion in that country. 

What do you know of Miss Mitford? I owe her 
much for the pleasure her "Village" has given me. 
When I ask you about individuals, you will always feel 
yourself at liberty to be silent. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, September 6, 1831. 

Dear Sir,— I cannot longer refrain from acknowledging 
your last welcome letter, although I suppose you must 
have received one of mine soon after you wrote. There 
is always topic enough, since the interests of all mankind 



TO DR. CHAXX1XG, 



87 



are ours. Just now my feelings are more cosmopolite 
than usual ; I take a personal concern in a third quarter 
of the globe, since I have seen the excellent Eammohun 
Boy. I rejoice in the hope that you will see him some 
time, as he speaks of visiting your country, and to know 
you would be one of his first objects. He is indeed a 
glorious being — a true sage, as it appears, with the 
genuine humility of the character, and with more fer- 
vour, more sensibility, a more engaging tenderness of 
heart, than any class of character can justly claim. He 
came to my house, at the suggestion of Dr. Boott, who 
accompanied him, partly for the purpose of meeting 
Mrs. Joanna Baillie, and discussing with her the Arian 
tenets of her book. He mentions the Sanscrit as the 
mother language of the Greek, and said that the expres- 
sions of the New Testament most perplexing to an 
European, were familiar to an Oriental acquainted with 
this language and its derivations, and that to such a 
person the texts which are thought to support the doc- 
trine for the pre-existence bear quite another sense. She- 
was a little alarmed at the erudition of her antagonist, 
and slipped out at last by telling him that his inter- 
pretations were too subtle for an unlearned person like 
herself. We then got him upon subjects more inte- 
resting to me — Hindoo laws, especially those affecting 
women. He spoke of polygamy as a crime, said it was 
punishable by their law, except for certain causes, by a 
great fine ; but the Mussulmans did not enforce the fine, 
and their example had corrupted Hindoos ; they were 
cruel to women, the Hindoos were forbidden all cruelty. 
Speaking of the abolition of widow-burning by Lord W. 
Bentinck, he fervently exclaimed, "May God load him 
with blessings !" His feeling for women in general, still 
more than the admiration he expressed of the mental 
accomplishments of English ladies, won our hearts. He 



88 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



mentioned his own mother, and in terms which convinced 
us of the falsehood of the shocking tale that she burned 
herself for his apostasy. It is his business here to ask 
two boons for his countrymen — trial by jury, and free- 
dom for British capitalists to colonize amongst them. 
Should he fail in obtaining these, he speaks of ending 
his days in America. The dominion we hold over India 
is perhaps the most striking circumstance of greatness 
belonging to our little island. Your acknowledgment of 
England for the first country in the world very much 
delighted me. Yes, with all its evils, all its errors, it is 
a land to be proud of. I have always felt with you on 
the calamitousness of any violent change amongst us. 
As long as I can remember, and through the times when 
French example had most influence, all the best friends 
of liberty and their country, at least its wisest friends, 
have constantly held that our evils were not nearly great 
enough to risk a revolution for their removal ; and now, 
when so many peaceable and gradual reforms are taking 
place, the point is so very clear, that none can wish for 
troubled waters but those who would fish in them. You 
think we shall escape this danger through the moderation 
of the higher classes. We have a farther and perhaps a 
stronger security in the curious manner in which all our 
different ranks, classes, sects and parties, are dovetailed 
into each other, or, if you please, matted together, which 
precludes the possibility of such a clear separation of 
one from another as took place between the privileged 
and the unprivileged orders in France. It is an inesti- 
mable advantage that we have nothing answering to 
noblesse ; that with us the younger sons of the highest 
peers sink back into the ranks, undistinguished except 
by the vague boast of blood or family, which now stands 
for little or nothing; whilst, on the other hand, the 
lowest birth is no obstacle to the attainment of the full 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



89 



honours and privileges of the peerage. Voltaire some- 
where remarks, a In England, if the king makes his 
banker a peer, everybody, even the highest noble, gives 
him his title. With us, though Bernard is a real Mar- 
quis, more than hundreds who are so named, who would 
not laugh to think of calling him Marquis V Thus our 
aristocracy is in a perpetual state of flux, and no one can 
say in any struggle who would or would not join its 
standard. The Tory party, again, is far from coinciding 
with any possible description of the aristocracy ; it ex- 
cludes the Dukes of Sussex, Norfolk, Bedford, &c, and 
includes the greater part of the London aldermen and 
most provincial corporations. Even the clergy are not 
all serviles, for some of them depend on Whig patrons. 
Neither are all Tories boroughmongers, nor all borough- 
mongers Tories. The High-church indeed are nearly all 
Tories, and Unitarians almost unanimously Eeformers ; 
but the Church Evangelicals, and all other sects of Dis- 
senters, are divided. Our debates are, I believe, ably 
reported, but I wonder not that they disappoint you. 
The House will not listen with patience to general prin- 
ciples ; they are supposed to be taken for granted ; and 
the ability of the debaters is often shown most in a kind 
of apropos of time and person, in hints and allusions, 
skilful thrusts and dexterous wards, which none but the 
initiated can appreciate. Of late, the anti-reformers talk 
merely to consume time, and now and then to damage 
the ministers in public opinion. 

Yes, we have many evils which lie quite out of the 
reach of Parliamentary Eeform, and the extreme inequal- 
ity of conditions is the one which must weigh the most 
heavily of all upon the humane and thinking mind. Pro- 
bably it is an inseparable concomitant of commerce, 
manufactures, and a high state of luxurious refinement. 
Bad institutions and some combinations of political cir- 



90 



TO DR. CHANXIXG. 



cumstances, however, have extremely aggravated the evil, 
and no doubt opposite influences may mitigate it, as I 
trust we may in time experience. I can trace much of 
the progress of pauperism to two particular sources, one 
of which has been but little noticed, and the other scarcely 
at all in public. The first was the anxiety of Mr. Pitt to 
keep the lower classes in good humour during the war 
against French principles, which led him to give to the 
system of legal relief its present pernicious extent, and 
to lay the foundation of xihe fatal practice of ekeing out 
wages by parish alms, which the landholders improvi- 
dently concurred in, from the selfish and shortsighted 
notion that wages once raised could not be lowered again, 
but that alms might be withheld when temporary causes 
of distress should cease. The other cause is connected 
with the spread and the converting spirit of the Evangel- 
icals. Ever since Hannah More published her "Ccelebs," 
it has been held by a large party the indispensable duty 
of ladies, girls even, to spend much of their time in visit- 
ing the dwellings of the poor, inquiring into and minis- 
tering to their spiritual and temporal wants. Apparently, 
great good would result from these charitable offices to 
all parties ; but you well know our national propensity 
to run everything to a fashion — a rage— and the result 
has been a great and pernicious excess. A positive 
demand for misery was created by the incessant eagerness 
manifested to relieve it. In many places the poor, those 
amongst them especially who have known how to put on 
a little saintliness, have been actually pampered and 
rendered like the indoor menials of the wealthy, lazy, 
luxurious, discontented, lying and worthless. Men have 
been encouraged in squandering their wages in drink and 
dissipation, by the assurance that the good ladies would 
not suffer their families to want ; women have slackened 
their efforts to provide decent clothing for their children 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



91 



— improvidence lias become characteristic of both. These 
evils, however, begin to be felt pretty widely, and I 
expect "the fashion of benevolence" is beginning to 
abate. You complain that our restlessness does not 
carry us to the West-Indian islands. Two things are 
against it, the length of vovas^e and the shrinking abhor- 
rence we all feel from the sight of slavery: but that 
senator would deserve praise who should defy them 
both in the cause of humanity. I have known these 
isles resorted to by consumptive invalids, and in one 
case within my knowledge, with complete success. I 
sincerely congratulate you on the benefit which Mrs. 
Charming has derived from her residence in the Tropics, 
and grieve that it has not done more for yourself. Would 
that you would both exchange your inclement skies for 
our milder ones, before another fearful winter sets in ! 
You should pass the colder months in our Montpelier — 
Bonchureh, in the Isle of Wight — where a friend of 
mine, given over in Lancashire, has been marvellously 
surmounting her disease ; the better seasons we would 
enjoy your society here. Pray think of it ; health is even 
more than country, and is not this, too, your country ? 

We have little or nothing doing in literature ; politics 
absorb us wholly. The state of the continent is an object 
of just anxiety. I dread beyond everything the demon 
of military glory which in all ages has possessed the 
French nation, and, combined with their treachery and 
love of intrigue, has always rendered them bad and dan- 
gerous neighbours. I do my best not to regard them as 
natural enemies, but it is difficult. They hate us, and 
with some cause too. I want to hear that your pen is 
again at work ; we cannot afford to be deprived of its 
labours. You may still do much more for us, much as 
you have done already. As for me, I proceed in my 
task very, very slowly; want of health and its concomitant 



92 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



want of energy, the cause. Just now, however, I am in 
spirits ; I have medical permission to make a little quiet 
week's tour under the watchful care of a kind brother, 
and we are going to view our English vintage, the Kentish 
hop-picking ; also to see pretty Tunbridge, and make a 
pilgrimage to Penshurst of the Sidneys, or perhaps to 
Hever Castle, the birthplace of Anne Boleyn. Do you 
not a little envy us the historic recollections of an old 
country ? I was present at the splendid spectacle of the 
opening of New London Bridge. It was covered half- 
way over with a grand canopy, formed of the flags of all 
nations, under which dined his Majesty and about two 
thousand of his loving subjects. The river was thronged 
with gilded barges and boats covered with streamers 
and crowded with gaily-dressed people ; the shores were 
all alive with the multitude. In the midst of the gay 
show I looked down the stream upon the old, deserted, 
half-demolished bridge, silent remembrancer of seven 
centuries. I thought of it fortified with a lofty gate at 
either end, and encumbered with a row of houses on 
each side. I beheld it the scene of tournaments ; I saw 
its barrier closed against the rebel Wyatt, and wished 
myself a poet for its sake. 

Pray believe me yours, with most sincere regard, 

L. Aikin. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, October 23, 1831. 

My dear Friend, — Your two welcome letters have 
reached me both on the same day ; of their various con- 
tents and of the Farrars I shall speak by-and-by ; but 
the urgent thing is to enter upon the discussion of 
Priestley to which you invite me. I have long wished 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



93 



to get you there. I have just been talking him over 
with my brother Arthur, who was his pupil at Hackney, 
and had both the opportunity of knowing and the mind 
for appreciating him. He says that certainly in one 
sense Priestley was self-satisfied, He had emancipated 
himself from the yoke of Calvinism, which was little 
made for his sunny temper ; and with such immovable, 
such entire conviction he had settled it with himself 
that all things must at all times be working for the best, 
because ordained and guided by the wisest and best of 
beings, that neither any misfortunes of his own, nor 
any disappointments to those causes which he espoused, 
were able to make deep or lasting impressions on his 
spirits. He was an optimist both by disposition and 
system, but from Epicurean tranquillity no one could be 
further. He was the most active of men ; he could not 
have lived inactive ; and to the propagation of this, his 
great principle, there was nothing he was not ready to 
sacrifice. My aunt has said of him, with as much truth 
as brilliancy, that "he followed truth as a man who 
hawks follows his sport — at full speed, straightforward, 
looking only upward, and regardless into what difficulties 
the chase may lead him." This sanguine spirit prompted 
him to adopt the maxim, that no effort is lost ; he firmly 
believed that all discussion must end in the advance- 
ment of truth ; and hence he could never perceive any 
mischief or danger in the fullest exposure of any doc- 
trine which he believed. He was constitutionally in- 
capable of doubt ; what he held, he held implicitly for 
the time ; but Arthur says he was not tenacious upon 
anything which did' not affect his great principle of 
optimism — that is, of necessity. It may be considered 
that his system of the origin of ideas was derived from 
Locke and enlarged upon by Hartley, who also main- 
tained necessity — and both these were revered names to 



94 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



follow. His system of materialism was more original 
and more obnoxious ; but his own faith in a future state, 
being fixed on gospel promises, was quite unshaken by 
it ; and he expected, I say not how wisely, to enhance 
the value cf Christianity, and compel, as it were, the 
Deist to accept of it, by proving that there was no hope 
of immortality without it. All these doctrines, too, were 
in a manner sanctified to him by the often ingenious, 
often powerful use which he made of them in his attacks 
upon what he regarded as the most mischievous corrup- 
tions of Christianity. If he had promulgated these opi- 
nions from vain-glory, no doubt it would have destroyed 
his moral greatness; but as by the concurring judg- 
ments, I believe, of all who had the best means of know- 
ing, his motives were purely reverence to God and good- 
will to men, I cannot agree that anything but imprudence 
ought to be imputed to him by those who may most 
distrust their truth and tendency. His private life was 
radiant with goodness. He was excellent in every rela- 
tion; exemplary as a pastor, particularly for the unwearied 
pains he took with the young, for whom he composed 
catechisms and delivered lectures. His Birmingham flock 
has never lost the character of devout zeal which he im- 
pressed upon it. His disinterested love of truth mani- 
fested itself in his scientific pursuits. The moment he 
made a discovery he threw it before the public; not 
waiting to form a perfect system which would have 
redounded to his own glory, but eager to set other minds 
on the track of investigation, and provided truth were 
discovered, careless by whom. In charity and forgive- 
ness of injuries he was a perfect Christian. " So kind 
was his temper," said my father, "that he would not 
have hurt his bitterest enemy." Think, too, of his zeal 
for civil liberty, and the obloquy and danger which he 
braved for it, and make allowances for the situation of 



TO DR. CHANGING, 



95 



a reformer rendered more positive by often dishonest 
opposition. No ; he had a sanguineness of temper in- 
compatible with true judgment, and perhaps with deep 
feelings, but I cannot deny him moral greatness; he 
would certainly have laid down his life for his faith and 
for mankind. 

The doctrine of necessity has, no doubt, its dangers 
for inactive and self-indulgent tempers; and though I 
know not how to resist by reasoning the arguments 
which very long since rendered me an earnest advocate 
for it, I begin to feel against it. In affliction I have 
found that it rather rebuked murmuring than afforded 
positive comfort. I know not how any one contrives to 
hold it and the Scriptures together ; moral responsibility 
is surely implied in their promises and threatenings ; 
but, in fact, some of the necessarian Christians dilute 
and explain them away till they come to very little. 
What I can least afford to part with is the idea of being 
approved or disapproved by a heavenly as by an earthly 
parent or superior ; of living " as ever in a great task- 
master's eye." It has sometimes overwhelmed my heart 
with a sense of desolation unutterably oppressive, to 
think, that by no efforts, no sacrifices, no performance 
of arduous duties with cheerful patience, it would be 
possible, if necessity were true, to gain the moral appro- 
bation of the Deity, without which I could not think 
of God as of a Father. Creator, I could call him, and 
Benefactor, but not Father, that dearest and tenderest of 
names. Your views on these subjects are so much more 
congenial to my feelings, that they have, I believe, very 
nearly become my own without my being aware of it. 
I am very much pleased with your account of the origin 
of a belief in futurity ; it accords with my previous ideas. 
We cannot well believe in God without expecting that 
He will sometimes come, as it were, to an explanation 



96 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



with, us on all the things which so perplex us here. In 
appealing to an inward light thus far, I think we are 
justified — it is rather dangerous ground, however ; enthu- 
siasm and superstition are very apt to take advantage of 
that inlet, as in the interesting case of Mrs. F. Of the 
Quakers, whom it was formerly my lot to know many 
rather intimately, I have always observed that, owing, I 
believe, to their want of professional instructors in reli- 
gion and morals, either as preachers or writers, they are 
much more ignorant of first principles on these subjects 
than the members of other communities. Whenever they 
begin to inquire for themselves, their unpractised under- 
standings soon get bewildered, and if they quit their own 
society it is usually for Methodism, Moravianism, or some 
other system where reason has least to do. A vagueness 
of thought, with a turn for mystery, almost always ad- 
heres to them, and it is very well if, in the midst of so 
much, confusion, they form or retain very clear notions 
of moral right or wrong. 

The Dr. King you inquire about, Mrs. Joanna Baillie 
knows ; she says he is very upright and very benevolent, 
but not a man of sense. His plan, I believe, has been 
given up, though at first it seemed to work well. Miss 
Mitford I never saw, but I think her "Village" a very 
pleasing picture, ancl quite true to nature. She lives in 
a cottage with an old father whom she dotes upon. I 
hear she is very happy in her seclusion, and her friends 
speak of her with much affection ; in London circles she 
rarely appears. 

I was disappointed of the little Kentish journey I 
mentioned in my last by the sudden illness of my 
brother; but when he recovered I found myself better 
too; and "King Charles" is proceeding, though not the 
better for our political crisis, which so fills my mind 
that I fear its giving some tinge or some vices to my 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



97 



representation of the events of a former period of revo- 
lution. 

No public event ever oppressed me, like this rejection 
of the Bill, with grief and fear. Delay — for it is but 
delayed — must evidently increase all its clangers. It 
gives opportunity for the intrigues of violent and design- 
ing men on both sides. The Tories are frightened now 
at what they have done. Many of them would never 
have given that vote but with the expectation of over- 
awing the King and making ministers resign ; they 
looked upon it as little more than a trial of strength 
between Grey and Wellington ; they now know how the 
people look upon it, and how stanch the King is. The 
bishops are regarded as insane. We feel ourselves stand- 
ing on a volcano. With all this, I love my country far 
too well to despair of her. I believe that the moderate 
party is strong enough to hold in. check the two 
extremes, provided it exerts itself strenuously and skil- 
fully for that purpose. 

You have touched upon what must be the most griev- 
ous of all topics to an American who loves his country — 
slavery. We who praise republics hang our heads when 
it is mentioned. There is nothing by which Americans 
are so apt to give an ill impression of themselves here, 
as by unguarded expressions on this subject. The only 
time I saw Bishop Hobart, he said to me, in defence of 
creating new slave states, that " a man must be allowed 
to make the best of his property." There was a general 
shudder. I turned away and addressed him no more, 
and the hospitable master of the house never gave him 
a second invitation. Another American sometimes gave 
us unpleasant feelings simply by speaking of planters 
as his friends or acquaintances ; we regard them as per- 
sons not to be mentioned without a necessity. I conceive 
that the greatest political difficulties and dangers which 

F 



98 



TO DE. CHAINING. 



menace you are from this source : the crime will bring 
its own punishment. 

It delights me to hear that you are writing again. 
Never can you put pen to paper without doing much 
good and giving great delight. In a general survey of 
the state of the world, facts will be of use to you as the 
grounds of reasoning, and I will take care to store up for 
you any I think useful. Mr. Whishaw is just returned 
from France, and I will keep my letter open till after 
to-morrow, in hopes of something worth writing, — No, 
he has nothing to tell me except that he found Paris so 
unpleasant from tumults that he left it in three days. 
But I have been questioning another friend, who has 
passed there the last year and half, on the state of reli- 
gion. He says that, generally speaking, there is no 
religion at Paris. The Eomish religion is considered 
obsolete, and very few but women attend the churches. 
The priests are from a low class, with a very small sti- 
pend from the State, which he believes their hearers 
never add to. He knows of no spread of Protestantism ; 
some old congregations of Eeformed there are, with 
Genevan ministers, who are by much the most eloquent 
preachers he ever heard; one congregation of English 
Unitarians, chiefly supported by Americans. These you 
doubtless know of; also that they have engaged an 
additional minister to preach in French. I hear from 
others that at Dijon a Catholic congregation went over 
in a body to the Eeformed; that similar conversions 
have taken place at Lyons. The provinces are less 
irreligious than Paris. You have probably heard that 
the Genevan Unitarians have been at length provoked 
to enter into controversy with the Calvinists, who were 
carrying all before them. 

I have been dining with two clergymen, who to my 
astonishment began a discussion upon the exclusion of 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



99 



bishops from the House of Lords, which they both 
thought impending. One said it would be a good thing, 
which the other did not quite deny, but thought this 
was not the time to strip the Church of honours. One 
of these was a Eefornier, the other certainly a Tory ; but 
being both, I believe, sincerely religious and honest 
men, they were equally ashamed of the conduct of the 
bishops, and sensible that temptation ought to be re- 
moved from them by the prohibition of translations and 
other means. There is extreme bitterness all over the 
country against the clergy. A gentleman who had been 
canvassing Liverpool for your friend Thornely was 
repeatedly told by Methodists and Calvinistic Dissent- 
ers, " We are willing to vote for a Unitarian, because he 
will be reasonable about the Church." A fearful sign 
for the Establishment when foes league against her ! In 
the midst of this ferment the lower classes exhibit a 
growing depravity which gives true patriots many a 
heartache. None would wish to live in an age of tran- 
sition such as we have fallen upon — none at least but 
the young and ardent, or those whose faith in the high 
destinies of man is firm as yours. I brace my mind as 
I can. In the storm there is sublimity, high thoughts 
are stirred, and even a woman may be called upon for 
the exercise of high virtues. 

Farewell, my dear and honoured friend. 

Lucy Aikix. 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, November 20, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received your letter of Sep- 
tember a few days ago, and I am the more disposed to 
send an early answer in consequence of the news re- 

F 2 



100 



TO MISS AIKIK 



ceived to-day from England, which turns all eyes towards 
your country. We have just heard of the rejection of 
the Eeform Bill in the House of Lords, and of the strong 
excitement produced by it in the community. I am 
grieved, greatly grieved, and for all parties. My great 
desire for England is, what I have often expressed to 
you, that your institutions may silently and gradually 
adapt themselves to the state of society through which 
we are passing, without the convulsions of revolution. 
This is the great object which statesmen should keep in 
view. All others are insignificant in comparison, But 
the chance of this seems to me now much diminished. 
That institutions should remain unchanged when all 
things are changing around them, is impossible ; and 
how strange is it that any should expect it ! Yet your 
aristocracy do expect it; and here we see one of the 
evils of Eank, that it places men in a position in which 
they cannot understand their age or the wants of society. 
Your nobility ought to make up their minds to meet 
the irresistible tendencies and vicissitudes of human 
affairs. It is demonstrable that as the mass of a people 
are elevated, the aristocracy must sink. The space 
between the different classes must grow less and less. 
The power must pass more and more into the hands of 
the people. This is a law of nature as irresistible as 
gravity, and wise men will conform to it; and this does 
not portend instant ruin to the aristocracy. Generation 
after generation may pass away without any great change 
in this form of your government, unless the privileged 
orders hasten their destruction by withstanding the 
mighty stream of human affairs. The aristocracy of 
England, as you observe, has no resemblance to the 
French noblesse. It is still strong, perhaps I should 
say very strong, in the hearts of the people. ISTo body 
of nobles in any age can be compared with it in moral 



TO MISS AXKXN. 



101 



and intellectual qualities, unless you choose to except 
the patricians of Eome. As the representative and 
guardian of property, it holds an important place in your 
government, and I should think would be an object of 
great interest to the men of property throughout the 
kingdom. I grieve that it should become an object of 
distrust and aversion by trying to arrest what it can only 
modify and regulate. I throw out these remarks because 
the views of a foreigner are interesting, and I am willing 
to say something to prevent wrong impressions from 
some of my former observations on aristocracy. Viewing 
this institution abstractedly, I see it hostile to true ele- 
vation of mind, to the relations which ought to subsist 
between man and man, to that spirit of humanity which 
sympathizes with and reverences our common nature, 
and looks on all outward distinctions as childish badges. 
Christianity is at war with it throughout. But I have 
no spirit of violent revolution. Aristocracy may and 
should subsist until the national mind has outgrown it. 
In England you are outgrowing it, and I shall grieve if 
you get rid of it by more summary processes. Such are 
my wishes. I see, however, that Providence heeds not 
human wishes — that it seldom suffers nations to move 
along a smooth path any more than individuals — that it 
uses the earthquake and tempests in the moral as in the 
natural world. I pretend not then to be a prophet. I 
hope everything for England, but even she may tremble 
and disappoint hope. I confess my faith is somewhat 
shaken when I see the aristocracy, the conservative 
power in the state, doing so much to invite and justify 
sudden and violent changes. 

Since I last wrote you, I have read Sir James Mackin- 
tosh's History of England, and I am prepared to retract 
some doubts which I expressed to you about his intel- 
lectual superiority. I think the History a noble one. 



102 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



Perhaps I never read one with equal gratification. He 
knows on what parts of history to throw the strongest 
light. He judges past ages with discrimination and 
candour, and enters into their spirit, and knows the 
significance of actions in different stages of society. A 
genuine sympathy with the human race and a high moral 
feeling breathes through the work. He is a thorough 
Englishman, yet interested in the cause of mankind, and 
a stanch friend of liberty without giving in to the extra- 
vagance of Liberalism. It does me good to see a man 
so conversant with the world and with history holding 
fast his confidence in the power and triumphs of truth, 
freedom and virtue. A man may know the world, it 
seems, without despairing of it. I wonder how, with 
his mastery of language, he could frame so many intri- 
cate and encumbered sentences. My defect of vision 
obliged me to employ some of my young friends in 
reading the work, and they often lost their way in the 
labyrinths of a sentence. The style is sometimes obscure 
from condensation of thought, and this I never complain 
of; but this excuse does not always apply. I do not 
mean by these remarks to find fault with the style, on 
the whole, for it is very often felicitous. I have tried 
in vain to get Sir James' " History of Moral Philo- 
sophy/' Cannot a copy be procured in England ? 

I was particularly interested in one part of your letter 
— that in which you describe the Evangelical ladies as 
patronesses of pauperism rather than of the poor. Be 
it so. Still, we must not condemn a good thing for its 
abuse. I desire nothing more than to see a free com- 
munication spreading through different classes of society, 
than to see the improved communicating their minds as 
well as wealth to the ignorant and poor ; and this they 
may do, if they go about it wisely. They must visit the 
poor, not to school them, but as friends, with sympathy, 



TO MISS AIKDT. 



103 



and still more with respect. Poverty depresses the mind, 
and turns it away from all the noble uses of life. The 
end of visiting the poor should be to encourage them, to 
help them to understand themselves, the true nobility 
of their nature, the infinite good within their reach, and 
the art of making their condition a means to it. This 
they can understand. I have an intimate and intelligent 
friend devoted to the poor, who carries to them the 
highest moral and religious truths which we delight to 
talk about, and he tells me that his poor understand me 
better than my rich congregation. I know a few ladies 
who go among the poor with much of an angel's wisdom 
and love, and who have spoken of the effect produced 
on them by conversing with them on the paternal love 
of God, which has no respect of persons, and on the 
greatness of the soul, which is equally great in all ranks. 
That the Calvinists should fail is not wonderful, for they 
want humility and just respect for their fellow-creatures. 
Their spiritual self-conceit is as a great gulf between 
themselves and the poor. My Divine Teacher, whose 
wisdom penetrates me more and more, has said, that to 
be " great in his kingdom/' or to be effectual promoters 
of truth and virtue, nothing is so needful as humility, 
the very grace in which the Genevan school is most 
wanting. I beg, however, to be just to the Evangelicals. 
They are far better than their system. It often gratifies 
me to see how the infusion of the undisputed doctrines 
of Christianity can sweeten the bitter waters of Cal- 
vinism. By the way, Calvinism is undergoing great 
changes here. The modern Puritan has the family like- 
ness, but the old features are wearing away. 

I have much to say, but have said enough. I rejoice 
in your improved health. I am happily well enough to 
do something, but I am expecting to be overcome by 
our winter. As long as I can work two or three hours 



104 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



a day, I feel myself a privileged man. I am looking at 
Godwin's last book. Though not a thorough thinker, 
he gives one much to think about. The cause of Eeform 
has been injured in this country by the want of some 
good article or periodical to meet the able articles in the 
" Quarterly." I have not read the last, but they have 
made an impression. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 

To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, December 8, 1831. 

I feel as if I were in some danger of becoming impor- 
tunate to you by the frequency of my letters ; but to 
converse with my "guide, philosopher and friend," has 
now become with me not a mere indulgence, but a want, 
and I trust in your patience. It is advisedly that I have 
called you my guide. I daily discover more and more 
how much I have come under the influence of your 
mind, and what great things it has done, and I trust is 
still doing, for mine. Let me gratify the feelings of a 
thankful heart by entering into a few particulars on this 
subject. I was never duly sensible, till your writings 
made me so, of the transcendent beauty and sublimity of 
Christian morals ; nor did I submit my heart and temper 
to their chastening and meliorating influences. In par- 
ticular, the spirit of unbounded benevolence which they 
breathe was, I own it, a stranger to my bosom ; far 
indeed was I from looking upon all men as my brethren. 
Many things prevented it. A life, for the most part, of 
domestic seclusion ; studious pursuits, and something of 
the pride and fastidiousness they are apt to bring ; and, 
more than all, the atmosphere of a sect and a party, 



TO DK. CHAX^im 



105 



which it was my fate to breathe from childhood, narrowed 
my affections within strait limits. Under the notion of 
a generous zeal for freedom, truth and virtue, I cherished 
a set of prejudices and antipathies which placed beyond 
the pale of my charity, not the few, but the many, the 
mass of my compatriots. I shudder now to think how 
good a hater I was in the days of my youth. Time and 
reflection, a wider range of acquaintance, and a calmer 
state of the public mind, mitigated by degrees my 
bigotry ; but I really knew not what it was to open my 
heart to the human race until I had drunk deeply into 
the spirit of your writings. 

Xeither was my intercourse with my Creator such as 
to satisfy fully the wants of the soul. I had doubts and 
scruples, as I have before intimated, respecting prayer, 
which weighed heavily on my spirit. In times of the 
most racking anxiety, the bitterest grief, I offered, I 
dared to offer, nothing but the folded arms of resignation 
— submission rather. So often had I heard, and from 
the lips of some whom I greatly respected, the axiom, 
as it was represented, that no evil coidcl exist in the 
creation of a perfectly benevolent Being, if he were also 
omnipotent, that my reliance on Providence was dread- 
fully shaken by a vague notion of a nature of things by 
which deity itself was limited. How you have dispos- 
sessed me of this wretched idea I do not well know — - 
but it is gone ; I feel, I feel that He can and will bless 
me, even by means of what seem at present evil and 
suffering. You have shown me clearly a Father in 
heaven, and for nothing earthly would I exchange the 
heavenly peace which this conviction brings. It is 
surely the highest reason to believe that our finite 
spirits can never think too well or hope too much of His 
infinity, provided only we fail not in our parts. 

From the time that I first became your reader, I had 

r 3 



106 



TO DH. CHAtfNItfG. 



a kind of anticipation that you would work considerable 
effects upon me ; but it has been by slow degrees, and 
laborious processes, and hard struggles with deep-rooted 
prepossessions, that I have fitted my mind to give recep- 
tion to so many of your views ; and, but for the deep 
interest in them which your letters assisted to maintain, 
my resolution would have failed me ere the task was 
thus far accomplished. You have wished to interest in 
religion minds by which it was apt to be coldly regarded. 
With respect to mine, you have all that you desire ; for 
the present I am little interested in any other subject; 
or, at least, I view all others as connected with this and 
subordinate to it. May God reward you ! You have 
given me a new being. 

All the principles that can support or elevate the soul 
are greatly needed with us now, to meet the tempests 
gathering thick and dark around us. Pestilence* advances, 
revolution threatens. With respect to the first, I feel 
only the dread of surviving those I love. A medical 
brother, pledged to go wherever called, is a great anxiety ; 
but I will not dwell on possible evils. The poor in some 
European countries through which this scourge has 
passed, were possessed with the notion that it was pur- 
posely diffused by the higher classes to thin the numbers 
of the lower. I doubt not there was talk which showed 
at least profound indifference in the rich and great to 
this result, and unless people set a strong guard on their 
tongues, the same suspicions may arise here. It is felt 
that we have many spare hands. I have heard a good 
man say, that a decimation of London, if the lots fell 
well, would be no bad thing. But luckily there can be 
no security that the lots would so fall, if once the infec- 
tion gained ground ; and therefore we are cleansing the 
dwellings of the poor, and wrapping their persons in 

* The appearance of cholera in England. 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



107 



flannel; but is there not something frightful in this 
worthlessness of the lives of one class to another ? AVhat 
wonder that kings have made no spare of the blood of 
their subjects ? I perceive more and more clearly what 
you first pointed out to me — the darkening effects of the 
spirit of aristocracy on the mind, its hardening influence 
on the heart. Distinct classes can never feel for each other 
as members of one body ; and in the want of this sym- 
pathy all anti-social vices, oppression, arrogance, cruelty 
in the rich, envy, fraud, rapacity, and brutal insolence 
in the poor, take root and flourish. I am convinced that 
the deep dread with which the working classes begin 
here to inspire their betters is extremely wholesome ; even 
such disgraceful excesses as those of Bristol have their 
use as warnings. Yet it is curious, though sad, to see 
how men drive away unwelcome thoughts, and hug 
a^ain their old delusions. One dav a threatened radical 
meeting in the suburbs puts all the magistrates and 
gentry on the alert ; the police are arrayed, special con- 
stables sworn in, the rabble dispersed, the popular orators 
disappointed of audience for that time ; and the next 
day you shall hear the aristocracy round their dinner- 
table confessing that some reform must take place, but 
assuring themselves and each other that a little will 
satisfy all the well-disposed, and concluding that "if 
the people will not be satisfied with moderate Eeform 
(that is, something less than the Bill), they must be 
bayoneted." I give you the very words used to me last 
week by a mild, amiable, indolent young man of fortune, 
and one who thinks great scorn to be called a Tory. I 
begin to fear that if, I mean when, a struggle comes, that 
dovetailing of the classes into one another, in which I 
once confided, will be apt to give way. Yet there are 
noble examples of rich men, and even lords, who feel for 
the multitude. The Catholic peers have almost all sided 



108 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



with the people — by virtue, I suppose, of their want of 
attachment to the Church. It would shock you to be 
initiated into the abominations springing out of Church 
patronage. " What will you do with your nephew ?" 
said a friend of mine to a great coal-owner. " Oh, if he 
turns out clever we shall make him a collier ; if other- 
wise, we must put him into the Church." When there 
is a family living, commonly the most stupid of the 
boys, very often the most profligate, is made to take 
orders. In other professions success depends in some 
degree on merit. For the sake of electioneering interests, 
there is really no man whom a patron will scruple to 
entrust with cure of souls — provided only a bishop can 
be induced to ordain him — and there is always some 
bishop of notorious facility. I think there must, ere 
long, be considerable concessions to public opinion with 
respect to patronage as well as tithes ; and these being 
reformed, doctrine will next come in question, I imagine. 
The substitution of popular election for patronage, and 
the abolition of pluralities, would infallibly procure us 
a more diligent, more moral, more independent clergy, 
and one better instructed in theology, and consequently 
more scrupulous of teaching what they could not them- 
selves believe. After all, these are animating times to 
live in ; they offer hopes well worth all the fears they 
bring. A friend just arrived from Italy brings me some 
carious particulars of the state of things. The Pope has 
nearly lost all temporal authority out of Eome. Bologna 
has refused, in the most respectful manner, either to 
admit his troops or to pay him any tribute. What is 
strange, the Soman censorship, though extremely jealous 
of religious heresies, takes no cognizance of political ones. 
You might almost publish there Paine's "Eights of Man." 
In Tuscany, on the contrary, you may print what you 
please on religion, but in politics you are much restricted. 



TO DR. CHAINING. 109 



A tragedy on the subject of the Sicilian Vespers had 
been repeatedly performed at Florence with immense 
applause. The French ambassador applied to have it 
prohibited on account of the reflections it contained on 
the French nation. " You need not stir/'" said the Aus- 
trian ambassador to him ; " the letter is indeed directed 
to you, but its contents are for me/ 5 The representation 
was not forbidden, but it was long before the author 
could obtain license to print it. At last he did, on 
condition that it should not be in a separate form, but 
stuck in a thick octavo of his other works. He contrived 
to take off a few separate copies, however, and gave my 
friend one, which I have just read. It certainly breathes 
a strong spirit of resistance to foreign domination, and 
also utters very intelligibly that earnest desire for the 
union of all Italy under one government which now 
possesses her best patriots. Many of them, my inform- 
ant says, would not object, on certain terms, to see the 
whole country under the dominion of Austria, which has 
the sense to govern Lombardy with a good deal of mild- 
ness and liberality. They hate the French. 

The more I see of Eammohun Boy, the more I admire 
and even venerate him. Dr. Wallich, of Calcutta, him- 
self an admirable person, tells me that he stands quite 
alone amongst his countrymen, with neither equal nor 
second in talent, in integrity, and in enlargement of 
mind. He has provoked the bitterest enmity of the 
Hindoo priests by his attacks upon their gainful idola- 
tries : but Dr. W. says that, should he return safe and 
well, supported by the distinguished favour of the Com- 
pany, and successful in his patriotic objects, a shock 
would be given to the whole Hindoo system, which 
would so near to overthrow it. He gave us this trait 
of the good Eajah. In conversation at the house of a 
Scotch gentleman at Calcutta, the question happened to 



110 



TO MISS A1KIN. 



arise, If two persons were drowning of whom you could 
save only one, and one were your countryman, would 
you not save him in preference ? " Certainly I should/' 
said the Scotchman. The Eajah reprobated the idea of 
making a choice between the lives of any two fellow- 
creatures at such a moment — he would save the nearest. 
" No," he added, after a pause ; " there is a case in which 
I should make a choice. If one were a woman, I should 
rescue her." And this from a man brought up amidst 
widow-burning and the exposure of female infants ! I 
have seen a good deal of the Farrars ; Mrs. F. and I are 
sworn friends, and I have made her tell me a vast deal 
about you and yours ; I can now fancy your happy fire- 
side. She says your boy and girl are perfect specimens 
in their kind. I shall be anxious to hear how the winter 
agrees with you and Mrs. Channing. With us the weather 
is now almost oppressively warm, to the alarm of those 
who are dreading cholera. Nobody knows yet what our 
ministers are going to do about Eeform ; but they have 
declared they will not fail again. 

Ever yours, with the truest esteem, 

L. Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, December 29, 1831. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received your letter, begin- 
ning with the vindication of Dr. Priestley, a few days 
ago. May every good and great man find as generous 
and able an advocate ! I have no difficulty about re- 
ceiving your impressions, for I have no prejudices or 
dislikes to overcome. I know little of his works, and 
probably shall not read them, for I have little sympathy 
with his ethical and metaphysical doctrines, and seldom 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



Ill 



turn my thoughts to the religious controversies on which 
he spent so much of his zeal. Still, I wish to be just to 
intellectual greatness and distinguished virtue, wherever 
or however manifested. The world is not, as yet, so rich 
in superior minds that we can afford to part with one. 
I need all the instances I can find of moral elevation to 
sustain my faith in the high purposes and destinies of 
human nature. How often this faith is assailed, almost 
shaken, by examples of degradation, I need not tell you. 
I will add that some of my speculations give me a per- 
sonal interest in seeing all that is good and great in my 
fellow-creatures ; for the connections in the intellectual 
or spiritual world seem to me so extensive and bene- 
ficent, and all excellence is of so expansive a nature, 
that I expect to be aided in some period of my existence 
by every mind w T hich rises above my own. I trust, 
however, that I have a more disinterested joy in the 
contemplation of noble characters. I think you mis- 
understood me when I spoke of Priestley's philosophy 
as Epicurean. I did not mean that it tended to inacti- 
vity, but that he sought refuge in his optimism from 
that deep feeling of men's present miseries, that thorough 
sympathy with human suffering, which, I think, marks 
those whom God selects as the great benefactors of their 
race. 

I have to acknowledge the generosity of Dr. Priestley's 
English admirers in forgiving me some of my remarks 
rather disparaging to their patriarch. I now think that 
I wrote with something of the Doctor's rashness. I 
doubt not his mild spirit will forgive any wrong I may 
have done him. I was sorry to find you so disposed to 
look with fear on the present condition of England. 
Many here are alarmed, but I am more hopeful. I am 
referred to antiquity for proof of the tendency of the people 
to excess; and I am told that human nature is the same 



112 



TO MISS AIKIK 



in all ages. But I differ in believing that human nature 
has made some progress ; that England is not Greece or 
Eome ; that much more of intellectual and moral power 
is at work among you ; that the industrious and domestic 
spirit of modern times separates them widely from the 
Old World ; that the present wide diffusion of property 
is another distinction ; that Christianity is not a dead 
letter ; and that the infinite motives to order and peace 
will not be wholly put to silence by the passions. Your 
present discontents grow out of improvements ; and this 
is encouraging. My fears are founded chiefly on the 
misery and depravity of your lower classes. You have 
a savage horde in the very bosom of your civilization, 
and I fear the more when I think that the luxury, vices 
and unfeelingness of your rich and noble classes have 
suffered this horde to spread among you — perhaps I ought 
to say, have done much to multiply it. I know the 
question will be put to me, How can we help it ? I 
answer, What cannot men help who are in earnest to do 
good, who love and respect their fellow-creatures, who 
are prepared to sacrifice themselves to a great and god- 
like work ? No, no ; you have all to answer more or 
less for the frightful amount of ignorance, guilt and 
misery in what you call your lower classes. 

With what face can your aristocracy talk of the per- 
fection of your government and state of society, when 
so many myriads of desperate men are scattered through 
your population ? Your great ones have retrenched no 
luxury, felt no anguish of spirit, in the midst of this 
moral pestilence; and yet they are indignant at the 
menace of revolution. I speak this in no bitterness of 
spirit, nor ought I to reproach England as alone guilty. 
The debt of the prosperous and enlightened classes to 
the depressed and ignorant is nowhere understood. We 
want a new era, when the ties of brotherhood shall be 



TO MISS AIKI3ST. 



113 



seen and felt to subsist among all who have one nation, 
and when justice shall be done to our nature in all 
classes. Then, and not till then, will revolution cease. 
This subject reminds me of slavery, of which you have 
written with a just indignation. But do you know how 
slaveholders reconcile themselves to their guilt ? The 
language of intelligent men in the "West Indies, and of 
men well acquainted with Europe, is — " Our slaves sub- 
sist more comfortably than the populace and peasantry 
of Europe." And I ask, do they speak without proof ? 
Do their slaves suffer more than the sixty or seventy 
thousand poor who are said to rise every morning in 
London not knowing where to find bread for the day ? 
The slaveholder says, Let the English provide for the 
Irish peasant as comfortable a hut and as good food as 
we provide for our slaves, and then they may come to 
improve the state of things here. 

I acknowledge the sophistry, but I mourn that it 
should have so much foundation. I shudder as much 
as any man at the terrible vengeance which the degraded 
classes, when once let loose, take on their superiors; 
but when I think of the unfaithfulness of these superiors 
to their high trust, of the cruelty with which they have 
severed themselves from their less favoured brethren, 
perhaps trodden them under foot, I am compelled to 
acknowledge the justice of God in this retribution. May 
it not be intended that the great and rich and educated 
should be roused to their duty by their fear ? that the 
formidableness of the lower classes should secure them 
a consideration which humanity and justice could not 
obtain ? 

I dread civil convulsions on account of the crimes 
which follow in their train, and of their tendency to 
give ascendancy to force and reckless ambition, and to 
issue in remorseless tyranny. If, however, the storm is 



114 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



to burst on the nations, as many predict, I shall not 
despair. I am sure that society will never be forsaken 
by its Author. I am not sure but that its present deep 
diseases may demand violent remedies. I have hoped 
for gradual progress, and have thought, and still think, 
that our present social condition contains the elements 
and promise of a happier state. I may err, and Pro- 
vidence may see that subversion, not improvement, of 
existing establishments is the only hope of the human 
race. Such will be my interpretation of violent revolu- 
tions, if they come ; and I shall see in them motives to 
the disinterested and generous, for more strenuous efforts 
and more unsparing sacrifice for the regeneration of the 
world. I repeat it, however, my hopes prevail greatly 
over my fears as to the result of the present struggle, 
and I shall wait for darker omens before I grow sad. 

What a race my pen has run on this subject of reform 
and revolution ! I trust, however, that you will under- 
stand me. My mind is so alive to the present condition 
of society, that when I begin to talk or write about it I 
know not well when to stop. I must leave the other 
topics of your letter untouched. 

Very affectionately your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, February 22, 1832. 

My dear Friend, — I have many, many thanks to return 
you for those two excellent letters I have had from you 
since I last wrote. Nothing so much interests and de- 
lights me as the spirit in which you write of us and our 
concerns. Call yourself " a foreigner/' if you must — it 
is a cold name, and one which we never give to Ameri- 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



115 



cans ; but yours is a filial heart to Old England still, 
and beats true to her in all her trials and adversities. 

If you have received two letters which I have written 
to you since the date of your last, you will have seen 
that I am still far from despairing of my country. I see 
dangers, indeed, many and of opposite kinds, and many 
more there must be which are invisible to me ; I see the 
interests of various parties, sects and classes in society, 
roused into fierce opposition ; I see all, the high as well 
as the low, exposed to peril, suffering under real evils 
and privations, and too generally disposed, by a short- 
sighted selfishness, to advance unreasonable claims, and 
to shift as much as possible of the burden from them- 
selves to others ; I see prejudice, ignorance, obstinacy at 
work, and in all classes too, to perpetuate bad feelings, 
urge on unprofitable courses, and resist wise and salutary 
reforms ; I see, and with deep sorrow, much depravity 
in the lower classes, much too in the highest, and in the 
middle ones a sordid, grovelling selfishness, less scandal- 
ous but scarcely less pernicious. But I see, on the other 
hand, much true patriotism, and in high places too ; 
much philanthropy, much enlightenment, active zeal, 
and in some bosoms fortitude and devotedness equal to 
any trials we can anticipate. There is also amongst all 
who have anything to lose a calculating coolness, a deli- 
berate appreciation of present good, which is likely to 
range them almost universally on the side of peace and 
order. The long discussion of Eeform has certainly had 
its advantages. You may observe that the highest Tories 
are now brought to admit that some there ought to be 
and must be. I firmly believe that, with more or less 
of modification, the Bill will now be carried ; and with 
a popular House of Commons, whatever partial changes 
of ministers shall occur, and several are talked of, it is 



116 



TO DR. CHANNINGr. 



certain that many other salutary measures, now in pre- 
paration, will be brought in, and carried too. 

The political unions seem to me to have lost ground 
since the affair of Bristol, and I do not in the least ap- 
prehend that they will be enabled to dictate to ministers 
or to Parliament, or materially to disturb the public 
peace. We have certainly in London no class of people 
capable of such deeds as the barricades of Paris. Our 
middling orders are men of peace, never drafted off by 
conscriptions ; and as for our mob, they are profligate 
indeed, but seldom atrocious. I suspect you have been 
horror-struck, like some persons here, by the statements 
and descriptions of Gibbon W akefield ; but it is not on 
the word of an atrocious malefactor, seeking to rise again 
into something like credit, and also to sell a book, that 
frightful stories ought to be implicitly believed. I think, 
in short, that the general apprehension of a revolution 
will save us from the reality, and that better, not worse, 
times are approaching. 

But what must I say to the heavy charge you bring 
against all the rich, the powerful, the improved, for the 
mass of vice, ignorance and misery, which they have 
suffered to accumulate about the poor of this country ? 
I have pondered the matter over and over, for I cannot 
lightly dismiss from-my mind such an accusation from 
such a quarter ; and this is the best answer my lights 
enable me to frame. In England— I dismiss for the 
present unhappy Ireland— apathy towards suffering fel- 
low-creatures is not a common fault. You have truly 
said that benevolence is one of our fashions. Political 
causes, misgovernment and bad legislation, have had by 
far the greatest share in producing evils for which 
benevolence, often misdirected, has found no effectual 
remedies. 



TO DE. CHANNING, 



117 



It would require a pamphlet to expose all the parti- 
culars in which the administration of Mr. Pitt and the 
statesmen of his school tended to the increase of the 
curse of pauperism. During the war the enhanced price 
of provisions ought to have been met by a corresponding 
advance in the wages of agricultural labour ; but this the 
gentlemen, from mistaken views of their own interest, 
opposed. Mr. Pitt legalized the payment of wages in 
part out of the poor-rate. In the southern and some 
midland counties, where this practice was adopted, con- 
tinually increasing misery and degradation have ensued, 
and of late a desperate spirit of revenge, which is likely 
however to compel the adoption of effective remedies 
for the evil, some of which are already coming into ope- 
ration. The fluctuations of commerce and manufactures ; 
the transition from war to peace ; the weight of taxation ; 
the invasion of England by swarms of miserable Irish, 
who underbid our own working men in the already 
glutted labour market ; the great extension of machinery ; 
the general inclosure of commons, and the system of 
large farms, are some of the many causes which have 
fatally conspired to the same end ; and you perceive that 
such of these as admit of counteraction are rather in the 
province of politicians and statesmen than of private 
individuals. That our legislation has not been idle in 
the cause, a slight survey of the objects of the greater 
part of the Bills brought in every session would convince 
you. When the great reform is effected, you will see 
the result. Meantime I regard all that is and all that 
can be done for the poor as palliative merely, and some- 
times not that. The pauper is robbed of half his virtues 
as surely as the slave. He loses self-respect, the most 
irreparable of all losses ; and neither the alleviation of 
his physical wants, nor even the acquirement of know- 
ledge when the means are not earned by his own honest 



118 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



labour, but conferred upon him as the alms of his supe- 
riors, have any tendency to raise him in the moral scale. 
Neither does religious or moral instruction, so conveyed, 
work its proper effect. It is received as a tax upon the 
dole which is expected to follow. The cant of religion 
has been widely diffused amongst our poor ^by these 
means, but of the spirit and power of godliness little 
indeed. 

I am convinced that an effective missionary must 
begin with, " Silver and gold have I none." He should 
be a poor man among the poor to reach their hearts and 
consciences. They have an incurable distrust of those 
who are called their betters in these matters — having 
indeed often seen religion perverted into an engine of 
state or an auxiliary of the police. More good, I believe, 
is to be done in this country at present by striving to 
diffuse pure and elevated and liberal views on religion 
and virtue amongst the higher and middling classes, 
through whom they may gravitate to the lower, than by 
attempting at once to confront degradation in its deepest 
caverns ; though I would by no means discourage the 
glorious few who feel in themselves a mission for these 
heroic efforts of philanthropy. But the greater part of 
our would-be teachers of the poor stand themselves in 
great need of becoming learners, especially of humility 
and meekness. There are of course many, very many, of 
a better stamp ; and I do look with a good deal of hope 
on the efforts now making for the establishment of Tem- 
perance Societies. But, alas ! how are we to cope with 
the evils of an already redundant and daily increasing 
population ? And Ireland, Ireland ! 

I have laid out of my account another dire calamity 
with which we seem doomed to contend — the cholera. 
Eeached us it has, beyond question, and a few days will 
decide whether it be an infection from some single source, 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



119 



capable of being by clue care extinguished, or whether 
it conies as an epidemic menacing myriads. In the 
most favourable case, much distress will arise — nay, it- 
has already arisen— from the interruption of trade, by 
which thousands more must be thrown out of bread. But 
should it assume the character of a real pestilence, who 
can even imagine the confusion, the misery ? Methinks 
I see the "grim features" of Milton's own Death exult- 
ing that his " famine shall be filled," and of the million 
and half of human creatures congregated in and near our 
vast metropolis ! A remedy it may indeed prove for our 
over-population — but what a remedy ! 

To contemplate such horrors with perfect composure 
is a height of philosophy I by no means aspire to reach ; 
but I trust I shall not be numbered with the panic- 
stricken. Hitherto, I have ever found that strength is 
given according to the call for it, to those who are not 
wanting to themselves. In the lives of those dear to me 
I am most vulnerable, but I bow to the Divine decrees ; 
and I have been quite enough familiarized with affliction 
to know what precious medicine it contains. For myself, 
I have never at any period within my memory viewed 
death as a subject of dread ; on the contrary, I have usu- 
ally beheld it as an object of aspiration, and with a kind 
of solemn joy. I believe that at any moment of my life 
I should have welcomed a call to die nobly. To expose 
myself to infection when duty or affection bade, I have 
never hesitated yet, and I trust I shall not now. 

It rejoices me to have been able successfully to vindi- 
cate to you the character and motives of Priestley. Too 
true it is that we cannot spare even one from our list of 
worthies. I long for a fuller development of your delight- 
ful idea of our personal interest in the high qualities of 
others. It is quite a new thought to me, and opens to 
the most inspiring views. Even in this state of being, 



120 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



the effects of a high principle, a grand discovery, a sub- 
lime poem, a noble action, extend quite out of sight and 
calculation. In other states they may reach to the whole 
race of man — I see nothing against it. Oh ! who would 
bear the sight and sense of human misery — that has 
indeed a soul to comprehend and feel it — without the 
cordial of high hopes and noble aspirations ! My thoughts 
are ever returning thither, to the invisible world ; and, 
thanks to you, they never return thence without bring- 
ing in their train deep peace. 

At length I am able to send you Mackintosh's " Essay," 
and I must give you the long tale which hangs by it. 
I long since legged Mr. Whishaw to beg one for you of 
the author, which he promised ; but accident prevented 
his doing so till Sir James had, as he believed, not one 
left; but he was not quite certain, for he had been 
moving, and his books were in confusion. To add to 
the chance of sending one by the Farrars, I then applied 
to Eees, my bookseller, who said with alacrity, " I will 
write to the Edinburgh publisher, and if there is one 
left, Dr. Channing shall have it." He was as good as 
his word, and has sent one, which I see he hopes will 
be received in the nature of a peace-offering, from " Self 
and Partners, Proprietors of the 'Edinburgh Keview/" 
For the man has grace, for a bookseller, and besides he 
wants to stop my mouth about the odious article. 

But in the meantime, the report of your admiration 
of his History so exceedingly gratified Sir James Mack- 
intosh, that he renewed his search, found a copy, and 
gave it to Mr. Whishaw to bring to me. It would have 
been most ungracious to refuse it; I have therefore 
accepted it for you ; meaning very honestly to keep it 
myself; which will be great luck for me, since it is not 
to be bought separately. I should have been mortified 
beyond expression if I had failed to procure one for 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



121 



you ; and I hope it will not disappoint you, "but I expect 
it will pose your young readers more than once. 

Have you seen the spirited sketch of the history of 
the Italian republics by Sismondi, in Lardner's Cyclo- 
paedia ? I think it very good indeed ; in a high repub- 
lican strain, like all his works ; and the English very 
good for & foreigner (not being an American). The author 
is now on a visit to Sir James Mackintosh, his brother- 
in-law, and I am to have the pleasure of meeting him 
at a neighbour's in a few days, should I be well enough ; 
but that is a great doubt, for I am a very poor creature, 
and seldom able to indulge myself with going into 
parties. The winter, however, has been remarkably mild 
with us ; I hope it may have been so with you likewise, 
and that you have been able to retain the precious power 
of occupying yourself for the public. 

I have written you an enormous letter, and I fear a 
dull one ; I doubt that you will think too that I look 
coldly upon plans for the benefit of the most numerous 
classes. But it is not so ; I only think that the political 
ferment must subside a little before anything effectual 
can be done. Our ministers seem to be dealing vigor- 
ously with the ills of Ireland ; peace and comfort there 
would remove many of our grievances. I will yet cling 
to the hoping side. 

We are very loth to send you back the Farrars. They 
have pleased universally. Since Mr. Farrar has improved 
in health he has shown us that his talents are of no 
common order, and nothing can be more unassuming 
than his manners. Without any tincture of his favourite 
sciences, I always found that it was easy to engage him 
in conversation in which he appeared to take interest. 

I will now at length release you. 

Ever your sincere friend, 

L. Aikin. 

G 



122 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



To Miss Aikiist. 

Boston, February 23, 1832. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received a few days ago your 
letter of December 8th, and owe you more thanks than 
I can express. Living, as I do, in perpetual conflict 
with debility, and oppressed with a consciousness of 
doing little for my fellow-creatures, I receive unspeak- 
able satisfaction from any proof of having aided others 
towards perfection and happiness. To know that I have 
aided such a mind as yours is a reward for which I am 
truly grateful to God. Mrs. Farrar told you truly that 
my lot is a singularly happy one. But I cannot escape 
the painful feeling that whilst I receive so largely, I 
communicate little. I look round me on the ignorance, 
guilt and misery of the world, and cannot think that I 
have a right to so much enjoyment without contributing 
more to the cause of humanity. What I have done I 
am apt to disparage, and the knowledge that my writings 
are not wholly lost is a consolation which I need, I 
feel more and more deeply how unchristian and guilty 
the lives of the prosperous classes are ; how little genuine 
sympathy and brotherly affection we have towards the 
mass of our fellow-creatures. I see more and more 
distinctly that society needs a revolution such as history 
nowhere records. To rise above others is the spirit and 
soul of society in its present constitution. To help others 
rise, to use our superiority as the means of elevating 
those below, is the spirit of Christianity and humanity ; 
and were it to prevail, would make a revolution more 
striking than any conquest has made. With these views 
of my relations to the world, and of the deep moral 
degradation of society, you will not wonder that my 
incapacity for exertion sometimes preys on my spirits. 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



123 



Had I the energy of body and mind, how I should rejoice 
to enter on a new mission, to proclaim with a new voice 
the spirit of Christianity, to show how our nature is 
wronged by the institutions, civil and religious, the 
manners, distractions and maxims of life which are 
thought to favour it ! But I can do little. The work 
belongs to another. It is my prayer, however, that 
before I am taken I may bear a stronger testimony to 
the great truths which are needed to regenerate the 
world. When I began this letter, I little thought of 
giving you this private history, and I am strongly tempted 
to withhold it ; but after your frank disclosures, I ought 
to let you know something of the mind in which you 
take so much interest. 

I shall not wonder if you think that you see some 
marks of morbid feeling in these views, such as may 
naturally be expected from a confirmed invalid. But 
" I am not mad, most noble 'lady'! but speak the words 
of truth and soberness." Nothing but patient medita- 
tion on the degrading influences of the present relations 
between man and man can enable any one to escape 
the power of habit, and to see society as it is. In many 
things you have the advantage ; on this point I claim 
some superiority. 

We are all waiting solicitously to know what the 
House of Lords will do with the Bill. Their position 
seems to me very difficult ; they cannot by any act take 
back the suicidal blow which they struck by their former 
rejection. They then placed themselves in hostility with 
the nation, and the nation, I see, will now receive con- 
cession as a reluctant boon, wrung from them by menace 
and fear. Begard to their order is the ruling principle 
of the majority, just as all superiors through the whole 
range of society are anxious to keep down their inferiors ; 
and this instinct, though quite sure in common cases, is 

G 2 



124 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



a perilous guide in such extraordinary seasons as the 
present. 

Your communications respecting France interest me 
greatly, and I beg you to tell me whatever you can 
learn about her from intelligent men. You have not 
yet shaken off your English feelings about this nation ; 
but you must let philanthropy triumph over the old- 
fashioned patriotism, and must hope, as we do here, that 
Trance is to surpass England. We hope so, because 
her position gives her a moral influence over the world 
which England cannot exert. She is the heart of Europe, 
and has in trust the cause of liberal institutions more 
than any other people. It is the fashion to deny her 
the capacity of self-government ; but I do not despair. 
She has certainly improved much since her first revolu- 
tion. The school has been a fearful one, but never was 
a nation educated so fast. You see more good sense and 
deliberation in her public councils ; and I do hope that 
the preservation of peace under such difficult circum- 
stances is to be ascribed in part to a decline of her insane 
and childish passion for military glory. We are cultivating 
French literature here. A friend of mine is translating 
B. Constant's work on Eeligion, and a translation of 
Cousin's Lectures has just appeared. Degerando's "Visitor 
of the Poor" is just ready for the press, by another friend. 
It is a little remarkable that, with all your charitable 
societies and operations, you have not produced so good 
a work as this. So says a most competent judge. That 
religion is to spring up again in France, I cannot doubt. 
I indulge the hope that one design of Providence in 
suffering the old order of things to perish is, that Chris- 
tianity may spring up in a new and purer form. I do 
not believe that the human mind is to repeat itself for 
ever. There are advantages as well as perils in a Chris- 
tian nation separating itself from the past, as France 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



125 



has done. Human nature may disclose new depths of 
power, and move forward with a new life. 

How heavily the past weighs on old nations ! France 
is a new nation, and I look to her for some new action 
of mind. Eeligion must revive, because it is a deep, 
essential want of the soul ; and Christianity must revive, 
because it meets this want. But I have no desire that 
it should rise again in any of its old forms. If it should, 
the chief benefit of the struggles of the age will be 
lost. You see the kind of interest I take in France. I 
wish my hopes had better foundation, but I cannot let 
them go. 

Yesterday our whole country was engaged in one work 
— the celebration of the centennial anniversary of Wash- 
ington's birth. What a singular event ! Millions of free- 
men joining without a dissentient voice to pay grateful 
homage to the memory of their political father, and he 
a statesman and hero without one Mot on his pure fame. 
Washington is the most remarkable man of modern 
times; not that he surpassed all in ability, for it is a 
question among us yet whether he can be called great 
in regard to intellect. But in a long life, passed among 
the most trying scenes, not a suspicion ever fell on his 
motives ; and he inspired a whole people with a moral 
trust and veneration which contributed incomparably 
more than transcendent genius could have done to our 
freedom and union. But I must stop. 

Very affectionately yours, 

W. E. Chaxxixg. 

To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, April 7, 1832. 

My excellent Friend, — Yours of Feb. 23 has just 
reached me. To find that the expression of my feelings 



126 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



respecting the effects of your writings had so gratified 
you, was delightful to me. But how is it that you can 
so underrate their power, that you can for a moment 
doubt the great, the inestimable good you ar$ working 
on many minds in many lands ? I must write to you a 
little more on this subject, and tell you what I think 
your greatest triumph, or at least that which most inte- 
rests me, and it will lead me to a great topic hitherto 
untouched between us. The impression you have pro- 
duced on the minds of women is one for which I bless 
God from the bottom of my heart. I need not tell you 
how precious your teaching is in the eyes of Joanna 
Baillie, and I have long since, I think, told you that 
admirable Mrs. Somerville was your zealous disciple 
(but make the Earrars tell you more of her). I have 
now to mention that you have another in Mrs. Marcet. 
This lady has published, but anonymously, so that her 
fame has been less than her merit and success — Conver- 
sations on Chemistry, on Political Economy, on Natural 
History, and on Botany — all elementary works of great 
solidity as well as elegance. She was the daughter of a 
wealthy Swiss merchant settled in London : her life has 
been almost equally divided between England and the 
continent ; and her excellent qualities and rare powers 
of conversation give her great influence both here and 
in Geneva, which she now calls her home. She has a 
charming daughter married to Edward Eomilly, "Of 
virtuous father, virtuous son," and from her I lately 
learnt that her sister, Madame Eugene De la Eive, of 
Geneva, was engaged in translating some pieces of yours 
for the " Bibliotheque Universelle," a meritorious peri- 
odical published there. The best and most sensible 
women of my acquaintance are, with very few excep- 
tions, converts to your views. Now, considering that 
proneness of women to the religious affections, which is 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



127 



so capable of being either exaggerated into fanaticism 
or depraved into bigotry, I regard it as a circumstance 
of immense public importance that such ennobling, 
touching, and at the same time sober-minded views 
should be so respectably patronized amongst us. "Whilst 
you take thought for the human race, I concern myself 
chiefly with my own sex, and oh ! that I could raise a 
prevailing voice against the manners, the maxims, the 
habits, by which I see it fettered and debased ! If I 
could engage you to plead in this great cause, I should 
esteem it half won. But I am ignorant how far the 
same evils and defects are common to us and our Trans- 
atlantic sisters, and I want much to discuss this subject 
with you. 

We modestly esteem ourselves the first of womankind 
for knowledge, for accomplishments, for purity of man- 
ners, and for all the domestic virtues. I am not sure 
that we are mistaken in supposing that the union of 
these recommendations is more frequent in England than 
elsewhere; but even granting us the whole, there is 
much, much to be added and to be corrected. Amid all 
that is put into the head, the soul, and very often the 
reason, starves. 

Women are seldom taught to think. A prodigious 
majority never acquire the power of reasoning themselves 
or comprehending the force of arguments advanced by 
others. Hence their prejudices are quite invincible, 
their narrowness and bigotry almost inconceivable, and 
amidst a crowd of elegant acquirements, their thoughts 
are frivolous and their sentiments grovelling. Exceed- 
ingly few have any patriotism, any sympathy with public 
virtue. Private feelings, private interests engross them. 
They are even more insensible than you charge our 
public men with being of " the greatness of the times in 
which we live." Eammohun Roy has been justly scan- 



128 TO DR. CHANGING. 



dalized at the want of zeal for the Eeform Bill amongst 
the ladies, and I sometimes pensively ask myself whether 
the country could now supply many noble Lady Crokes 
to exhort a husband to follow his conscience in public 
matters, regardless of the worldly interests of herself and 
their children. Luxury makes great havoc with the 
lofty virtues, even in manly minds, and woman it quite 
unnerves, for the most part. You look with some 
jealousy on the principle of patriotism as hostile to 
universal philanthropy; but I am sure you will agree 
with me that it is better to love our country even 
partially and exclusively than to love nothing beyond 
our own firesides, and, when public good and private 
interest interfere, to feel no generous impulse to sacri- 
fice the less to the greater. I wish that more women 
were nurtured in, at least, the Latin classics, because 
from them they might imbibe this elevating sentiment, 
without which they can never deserve the friendship, 
whatever they may obtain of the love, of noble-minded 
men. If you will turn to one of Mrs. Barbauld's 
" Characters," beginning, " Such were the dames of old 
heroic days" (it was written, by the way, for the mother 
of Mr. Benjamin Vaughan, a grand-looking old lady, 
whose figure I still can recal), you will fully understand 
what kind of spirit I long to inspire into my sex. Almost 
all my life this desire has been one of my strongest 
feelings. When a little girl, I used to battle with boys 
about the Eights of Woman. Many years ago, I pub- 
lished " Epistles on Women," all to the same effect ; and 
though I now think, I dare say, as ill as anybody of the 
poetry of that work, it contains many sentiments which 
I still cherish, and would give much to be enabled to 
disseminate. You may understand by this more dis- 
tinctly what I meant by saying that the higher and 
middle classes required to be better taught themselves 



0 

TO DR. CHANNING. 



129 



before they took in hand the instruction of the poor ; 
and a great reason why I doubt of the good which women 
do in their visitations of cottages is, that I regard them 
for the most part as themselves the slaves of so many 
stupid and debasing prejudices. The theology of most 
of them is that of the Thirty-nine Articles, which you 
estimate as it deserves ; and original sin and the atone- 
ment are the favourite themes of their lectures to the 
poor, even to children. Nay, our orthodox curate told 
me himself the other day that he had interfered to pre- 
vent the lady-managers of the infant school from giving 
the babies interpretations of prophecies concerning the 
twelve tribes of Israel, to learn by heart ! So undis- 
criminating is their reverence for all that refers to the 
contents of any part of the Bible ! You know well, 
too, how the precepts of Christianity have been pressed 
into the service of a base submission to all established 
power. 

I am interested in your anticipations concerning 
France. It is much to require me to wish her to surpass 
my own country ; but I may truly say that in any real, 
that is moral improvement of hers, I shall ever most 
cordially rejoice. This I hope I should do from a pure 
love of excellence, wherever it may manifest itself; but 
merely as a patriot I must wish that our next neigh- 
bours, with whom so many amongst us are inclined to 
cultivate the closest intimacy — from whom w^e derive 
many fashions, practices and opinions — from whom we 
receive (with horror I speak It) instructresses for so 
many of our innocent girls — should become more respect- 
able and less a source of moral mischief to us. I own 
I still think extremely ill of their national character in 
every possible sense : they are regardless of the true, 
the sincere, the genuine, the natural ; their vanity is 
odious to me, and their want of all decency, disgusting, 

G 3 



130 



TO BE. CHANGING. 



I am far more interested in the Italians. Debased and 
corrupt as they are, there are noble features in their 
national character; if free and united, I believe that 
they would again rise to glory of every kind ; and their 
literature far more delights me than that of France — 
they have poetry, and a very noble spirit breathes in the 
works of Alfieri and some of their living writers. There 
are men of great merit amongst their exiles ; if they have 
left many equals or successors behind them, the country 
must and will emancipate itself before very long. But, 
my dear friend, is it our duty to be always fixing our 
eyes on the destinies of nations, on the state and cha- 
racter of mankind at large ? May we not often permit 
ourselves to dismiss from our care evils beyond our cure ? 
Or may we not lull the pain which these general views 
are apt to inflict with some considerations like the fol- 
lowing ? This world with all its ills, man with all his 
crimes and miseries, are yet such as their wise and 
beneficent Maker designed that they should be, foresaw 
that they would be. That good preponderates we cannot 
doubt. All rational creatures, it is probable, find their 
life a boon even here— if not, how easily can futurity 
compensate transitory sufferings ! "Without falling into 
the Epicurean sentiment which you declare against, there 
surely is a sense in which we may say, " Whatever is, is 
right." We ought not surely to refuse ourselves to the 
advances of that sweet peace "which virtue bosoms 
ever," because of sin and suffering of which we are not 
the cause. 

Believe it, we shall some time know how and why 
all these things are. In the meanwhile let the sensitive 
and ingenuous mind combat this anxiety as its "last 
infirmity/' remembering that His eyes and His love are 
upon all, the evil as well as the good, the destitute and 
wretched as well as the happy. Pardon me, pardon me ! 



to miss a mm. 



131 



have I dared to exhort you ? But no ; I believe that it 
is the unworthy body which is in fault wdien you are 
overpowered by human ills, or unsatisfied with the 
amount of good which Providence has enabled you to 
perform. I know well how mighty that amount has 
been. 

May you still be strengthened to go on adding to it 
many years ! Our cholera turns out comparatively a 
trifle — what our Eeform will turn out is still in dread 
suspense. I feel entirely with you respecting the posi- 
tion of the Lords. Should we, like France, be compelled, 
as you say, to separate ourselves from the old, there may 
be compensations for the inevitable evil of the parting, 
for posterity, scarcely for us ; and yet the intense excite- 
ment would be worth having. 

Ever most cordially yours, 

L. Aikin. 

To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, June 9, 1832. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I date from Boston, but I write 
from an inn in the interior of the country, where I am 
resting for an hour or two on a journey undertaken in 
the hope of regaining some strength. For above three 
months I have been useless; not sick enough for the 
physicians, but too sick for exertion. Our long-delayed 
summer seems at length opening on us, and I seek health 
where I have most frequently found it, at a distance 
from the city. I am more and more fearful that I cannot 
endure the rigours of our winter, and if a voyage were 
not so exhausting to me, I should be tempted to try for 
a season one of your southern counties, which Mrs. Baillie 
has recommended to me. But it is hard to leave my 



132 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



home. I have a mother about eighty years of age, who 
is capable of enjoying so much happiness from her chil- 
dren, and whose last days are so bright and peaceful, 
that I should grieve to place myself at a great distance 
from her. In truth, I form no plan. Like the birds, I 
welcome this joyous season, and leave the future to Him 
that " careth for us/' I fear that one of my late letters 
gave you hardly a just idea of my ordinary state of mind. 
I recollect that after putting my morbid feelings on 
paper, I hesitated about sending them to you; but it 
seemed to me that I owed to your great ingenuousness 
some exposition of the occasional waywardness of my 
mind, if such it were. My general frame is anything 
but despondence. I am much indebted to you for two 
late letters ; the first by the Farrars/ These good friends 
reached us safely, and Mr. F. improved in health. They 
have communicated to me much about friends whom I 
love in England. 

The principal topic in your first letter was our debt to 
the poor. I thank you for opposing me so frankly, but 
I think you in error. You hope little from the direct 
exertions of the rich on the poor. Shall I tell you the 
cause of your scepticism ? You have not met with the 
rich who understand their relations to the poor, who 
have a true sympathy with them, and who have risen 
above all the distractions of life to a true reverence 
for our common nature. Nothing but sympathy and 
respect towards the poor, joined with a sound judgment, 
can do them much good, and these can do them great 
good. It is not the distance of the condition of the rich 
from that of the indigent which makes the difficulty, 
but distance in spirit. You would have the missionary 
to the poor a poor man, that he might come near them 
and may excite no mercenary hopes. I believe the rich 
may come still nearer. No one is so prepared to sym- 



TO MISS AIEUT. 



133 



pathize with poverty as lie who has known a better lot, 
if he can only escape the blinding and hardening influ- 
ences of his condition ; if he can see in human nature 
something nobler than in property, and can carry with 
him a faith in the redemption or recoverableness of the 
fallen. As to the mercenary hopes which the poor must 
place in their benefactors, these would be inspired by a 
poor missionary ; for if he had not a heart of stone, he 
will and must become a beggar for the sufferers whom 
he visits ; and as soon as he shows a capacity of doing 
good, he will certainly be made an almoner of the rich. 
This is exemplified at this moment in Boston. Xo ; the 
rich and instructed may do immeasurable good among 
the poor ; and I say this from knowledge. I have now, 
as my companion, a friend whom I have taken from 
Boston, broken down by his labours among the poor. 
He goes among them in the true spirit of Christianity. 
He sincerely respects them, probably more than the rich ; 
not from a prejudiced enthusiasm, but from close con- 
nection with them, and witnessing among them great 
virtues and rapid progress in virtue, that is, when mea- 
sured by their condition. He has had very much your 
opinion about the greater good he might do if a poor 
man; and, though peculiarly blessed in domestic life, 
has almost wished, in seasons of great excitement, that 
he had not found these relations, in order that he might 
live among the poor, eat at their tables, and sleep under 
their roofs. I believe I have satisfied him of his error, 
and reconciled him to a lovely wife, fine children, and 
the comforts of life. Was ever minister before called to 
preach this form of self-denial ? He proposes it as one 
of his great objects, to prevent the poor from leaning on 
him, to reveal to them the elements of power and happi- 
ness in their own nature, to show them that their great 
relief is to come from themselves, and that there is no 



134 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



limit to what they can do for themselves. He thinks 
nothing gained till he has touched the springs of mental 
energy and self-respect within them, and he has met 
with success. 

This generous experiment on human nature has cheered 
me greatly, and strengthened me in my hopes for low as 
well as high. My good friend, do not talk of palliatives 
for the condition of the poor ; that word is a dangerous 
one except in desperate cases. There is but one effectual 
way of improving human condition, and that is to act 
deeply and generously on human nature, to regenerate 
it in the true sense of the word. Forgive me this tres- 
pass on your patience, and be assured, though I am so 
confident, I am open to conviction if I err. I have 
spoken of one companion ; I have another equally inte- 
resting, an inveterate hypochondriac, and who, with a 
great fortune, accomplishes less good than he should do 
in consequence of this terrible malady. Still, he is the 
truest friend of his race, and has more respect for human 
nature and a deeper feeling of the essential quality of 
human beings than almost any one whom I know. He 
is, too, a vigorous and original thinker. You can easily 
conceive on what subjects we almost talk ourselves 
hoarse. The condition, perils and prospects of our race 
— the passions and principles now at work in the bosom 
of society — the true character of Christianity, and the 
way to bring it to bear on men, and in general the means 
of human improvement — these topics never weary us. 
There are few greater blessings in life than this free 
intercourse with those who love God and their race with 
unaffected and enlightened fervour. There is, indeed, 
one greater good, and that is to convert our speculation 
into reality. Too many of us have glorious dreams, and 
keep on sleeping. 

I can but touch on some interesting points in your 



TO MISS AIKXN, 



135 



letter. I thank you for getting me Sir J ames Mackin- 
tosh's Dissertations. I have a short work in the press, 
which I hope soon to send to Sir James, and I will then 
acknowledge his politeness and kindness. I have read 
his work with great pleasure. It is a noble effort. He 
is the very man to criticise the labours of other great 
men. But I differ from him in theory. His attempt 
to unite Butler and Hartley reminds me of Nebuchad- 
nezzar's image, with its head of gold and feet of iron and 
clay. Not that I undervalue Hartley. He was a great 
and good man. He made a precious contribution to in- 
tellectual philosophy, and his writings gave me a high 
idea of his character. Did you ever read his Prayers 
and Meditations ? I know nothing of the kind which 
breathes so simple and sincere a piety. Still, his exposi- 
tion of our moral nature is to me very unworthy, im- 
perfect and degrading. It makes moral sentiments an 
illusion, and I am sorry to say that Sir James upholds it. 

We have heard of the second reading of the Beform 
Bill in the House of Lords. It will probably receive 
some modifications there, which I rather wish, if they 
will leave the Bill acceptable to the nation. Compro- 
mise is the spirit of free governments, and your policy 
is to purify your institutions without civil convulsion. 
For want of a spirit of compromise, our own institutions 
are seriously threatened. 

I cannot write about France. I grieve that you see 
no more signs of improvement in that country. Did 
you read in the last " Foreign Quarterly Beview" an 
article on Louis Fourteenth's times ? What a change in 
the French character since that day ! and have not good 
principles made some progress ? 

I shall rejoice to hear of your better health. 

Very sincerely your friend, 

Wm. E. Changing. 



136 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, July 15, 1832, 

My dear Friend,— I yesterday received yours of June 7, 
which gave me variety of pleasure and pain : the hope of 
seeing you — the fear that continued ill health might be 
the cause — sympathy in your sentiments towards a vene- 
rable parent, for such sentiments were my own whilst 
their dear object remained — all contended together ; but 
being somewhat of an optimist, I settled it at length that 
either I should have the great delight of seeing you, or 
else the satisfaction of hoping that you were in better 
health at home. Ah ! that health — what a blessing to 
those who recover it after long wanting it ! I speak here 
experimentally. For the last few weeks I have regained 
a state of ease and vigour which makes my whole waking 
time one song of thankfulness. And opportunely has 
this great change come ! I had been so despairing of 
ability to complete my work, that I had fixed to print 
it a fragment, stopping at the beginning of the war — a 
bitter disappointment in many ways ; when almost sud- 
denly I rallied, found myself able to work, and now hope 
to bring out my Charles complete next winter. This 
makes me very busy, and I borrow from my sleep time 
to write to you. By the way, I have a long unsent letter 
to you in my paper-case. I wrote it on the passing of 
our great Bill, when we had just recovered from immi- 
nent dread of a civil war ; but at that crisis we were so 
whirled about by the feelings of the moment, that I felt 
I might give you impressions to-day which I should find 
all erroneous to-morrow, and therefore I kept silence. 
I will now say that we feel the more happy and triumph- 
ant in the victory, because the people gained it for them- 
selves; and by means so peaceable and orderly as showed 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG-. 



137 



them fit and worthy to obtain it ; and because there is 
great reason to expect that excellent men will be elected 
to the coming Parliament, Nothing has ever given me 
such good hopes for my country as the conduct of the 
people at large on this occasion ; good judges think they 
already perceive that the labouring classes are raised in 
their own esteem, and are becoming more estimable in 
consequence. The taste for other kinds of reading, be- 
sides political, seems rapidly to increase. The " Penny 
Magazine," set up by the Useful Knowledge Society, sells 
120,000 copies ; and this is only one of a multitude of 
cheap and wholesome productions which are eagerly 
bought up. To look back now upon the political state 
of the country, the state of knowledge, and the state of 
opinions within our own memory, and then to look for- 
ward, is absolutely dizzying. Happy they who have 
been spared to behold so bright a dawn ; the day I think 
is yet to come. It will next be seen what we can make 
of a Church reform. The Irish resistance to tithes must 
lead, I believe, to vast consequences, here as much as 
there. A conscientious scruple of paying one's money 
is pretty certain to prove both obstinate and infectious. 

I feel quite enlightened by what you say respecting the 
mode of acting beneficially on the poor. My own opi- 
nions, I must own, were not the result of any personal 
knowledge of the subject, and perhaps I was secretly 
swayed by a wish to believe exertions useless to which 
I was myself indisposed. It now strikes me that a person 
visiting the poor with such knowledge of their situation 
and such sympathy for them as the poems of Wordsworth 
display, could not but work much good ; but, alas ! to 
acquire such acquaintance with them is a business, a 
calling, and we cannot all devote ourselves like your 
admirable but enthusiastic friend. I will think more, 
however, on the subject; I have long felt an uncom- 



138 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



fortable consciousness of deficiency in this great branch 
of duty. 

Poor Mackintosh ! You will, ere this, have learned 
that he is beyond the reach of your acknowledgments. 
He lies in the churchyard which I see from my windows. 
I thought there was a kind of appropriateness in the long 
train of empty coroneted carriages, with hat-band- wearing 
menials, which followed him to his long home, and then 
drove back at speed, without even waiting for the per- 
formance of the funeral rites. 

I am not sufficiently acquainted with Hartley to give 
an opinion on his system, but it appeared to me in gene- 
ral that Mackintosh was fond of attempting to reconcile 
theories really incompatible with each other. And is it 
not rather too much of a subtilty to say that, although 
general utility is the test of right actions, it can never be 
an impelling motive ? It is true that we cannot stop on 
all occasions to calculate the greatest good of the greatest 
number before we act, even if we possessed the necessary 
data ; but surely we proceed upon a general idea of ten- 
dency to good in our actions ; and is not the dignity of 
man more consulted by allowing reason that share in our 
determinations than by supposing them to be governed 
by a kind of moral instinct or appetite ? But the more 
I think upon it, the more I am struck with the complex- 
ity of human nature, and the multifariousness of the 
influences to which every individual is exposed, and the 
consequent extreme difficulty, if not impracticability, of 
finding out what is primitive in him. In one sense we 
may regard his utmost refinement as a part of his nature. 
We can none of us remember ourselves unsophisticated, 
if the influences and suggestions of other minds be 
sophistications. We have never been left to the deve- 
lopments of our own powers, which is the reason that 
we know not by intuition whether or not we have any 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



139 



instincts unless those of suction and deglutition. I am 
disposed to question the soundness of all very simple 
theories of man, and that of association particularly, to 
which I also feel a repugnance in my heart. Oh ! if you 
do but come to England, what prodigiously long conver- 
sations we shall have ! — our topics will be quite inex- 
haustible. In writing to you I am always overwhelmed 
by the abundance of matter. I want you to know mul- 
titudes of English people who would be interesting to 
you in various ways, and yet I feel that extreme caution 
would be necessary to preserve you from being over- 
whelmed by crowds, which is the mischief and the misery 
to which a name subjects all here. 

I find my historic task increase in interest as I pro- 
ceed. The times are very favourable ; they will allow 
me all the liberty of speaking I desire ; and I have 
been fortunate in procuring unpublished documents. A 
volume of the Correspondence of Sir J. Eliot, the patriot- 
martyr, lies on my table. Hampden was his chief friend, 
and Eliot was worthy of all his affection. You can 
imagine nothing more firm, more philosophical, more 
truly pious, than his letters from prison. When, at 
Christmas, he was removed to a cell without fire, he 
writes to his friend : " I hope you will believe that change 
of place makes none in my mind/ 5 The cold was his 
death. A confession of guilt and a humble petition to 
the King would at any time have purchased his release ; 
but this price he would not pay. Let me love the land 
which bore such heroes ! Another family history lies 
before me, a folio manuscript. It is little or nothing 
to my purpose, but the writer was delighted to take a 
pretext for bringing it to me. He is such a personage 
as, I suppose, your country does not produce — a man 
who lives upon his pedigree. My friend is poor, for the 
entail was cut off, and the title came to him without an 



140 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



acre: his father killed himself, his wife has eloped — 
though still young, sickness has made his once fine person 
a miserable wreck ; he has no career, and not even an 
heir male, but he knows that for seven hundred years a 
certain castle descended from father to son in his family ; 
he can trace his ancestry to Saxon times; he has com- 
piled their history with infinite labour ; he knows that 
one committed a murder, that another was tried for 
treason; all this is a kind of conscious worth to him, 
and he is happy. Let me, however, give him his due. 
The polish of his manners has a kind of fascination, and 
it is impossible not to confess that pride of birth has 
made him at least a perfect gentleman. What is your 
opinion of this principle or sentiment ? Some regard it 
as useful to balance the pride of purse ; others look upon 
it merely as an arrogant assumption the more in society. 
I am inclined to look on it with some complacency as 
favourable to the graces, which certainly purse-pride is 
not ; but I see that it often tends to political servility. 
A poor man of birth becomes almost unavoidably a 
hanger-on of the court or the minister, and in one way 
or other subsists at the cost of the people. A rich man 
of birth sometimes places his dignity in defying present 
power and protecting the weak. In our late struggle, 
the Howards, the Stanleys, the Eussells and the Spencers, 
have deserved very well of their country. But here you 
will say that I confound the political effects of nobility 
with pride of blood, which is a different thing. Certainly 
reason cannot respect a man the more because his ances- 
tors possessed certain manors for a succession of ages, 
and were sheriffs and county members in their turns. 
It is seldom that anything moral is connected with this 
kind of boast. Jesus set himself against the claims of 
those who said, " We have Abraham for our father." And 
yet temporal goods at least are represented to have been 



TO DR. CHANNIXG-.y 



141 



promised to the Jews on that very score. This strikes 
me as an eminent instance of what I should call his 
philosophical spirit, his sense of divine justice, or his 
enlarged philanthropy. It is somewhat in the same 
spirit with what yon remarked of his instituting no 
priesthood. 

I wish yon would tell me whether there is any channel 
by which one conld now and then send you a book 
which was likely to interest you, and which you might 
otherwise miss. I longed to convey to you a " Life of 
Wiclif/' by Le Bas. You would find in it much curious 
and interesting matter. There is the very noble and 
striking character of the Eeformer himself, with many 
instructive traits of his times — full confirmation of what 
I once assigned to you as the cause of the small resist- 
ance made to our Eeformation, namely, the wide diffusion 
of Wiclif 's principles ; and there is curious proof how 
much an exceeding High-churchman of the present day, 
such as is Le Bas, falls short of the old reformer in sim- 
plifying religion. After great struggles he brings out the 
frightful fact that "Wiclif would fain have abolished 
bishops and established a kind of Presbyterian disci- 
pline. This volume makes the first of a set to be called 
the " Theological Library/' in which the ablest pens of 
the High-church party are engaged. Le Bas is noted as 
a bitter reviewer of polemics ; he is certainly an able 
writer and affluent in knowledge. 

My paper reminds me to release you. How eager I 
shall be for the next notice of your determination ! Pray 
make health your first object. 

Ever most truly yours, 

L. Aikix. 



142 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August 26, 1832, 

My dear Miss Aikin —I received yesterday your letter 
of July 15, and I hasten to answer it, to show you what 
a grateful reception it met with — and for another reason, 
which will not give you equal pleasure. I am suffering 
from a bad cold, the consequence of the unusual severity 
of the weather at this season (the thermometer this 
morning having been below 50, probably nearer 40), 
and after a night rendered sleepless by laudanum, I find 
myself equal to no task more severe than letter- writing. 
Among the many interesting and agreeable communica- 
tions of your letter, the most agreeable was the good 
news of your restoration to health. It is very plain 
from what you say that the vital energy is far from 
being exhausted yet. Do not use it too freely. Watch 
over it for others as well as for yourself. I forgot what 
I wrote you about visiting England, but you interpreted 
me more strictly than I intended. I expressed wishes, 
I presume, rather than expectations. At present I am 
bound to my own country. The cholera is here, and 
every place expects it. I have no great solicitude about 
my immediate friends, for the temperate and prudent are 
generally passed by ; but there are exceptions, and until 
a city has been visited by it, there is no certainty as to 
the classes on whom it will seize. In Montreal, the most 
virtuous and respectable were swept away as truly as the 
dissolute. I have great hope for Boston, for I believe no 
place on the globe has used more thorough and judicious 
means for averting or mitigating the calamity. One plan, 
I believe, is peculiar to our city. A Eelief Association 
has been formed, the members of which are pledged to 
secure attendance to the sick whenever the aid of domes- 



TO MISS AIKEN*. 



143 



tic friends shall be wanting. This Society embraces 
some of our most opulent and valuable citizens. ISTo one 
therefore has any fear of desertion ; and, what is still 
more important, moral courage and strength will descend 
from the higher to the less favoured classes, so that one 
great cause of the disease, terror, will cease, and the 
claims of humanity be respected everywhere. Have I 
not some right to be proud of my city ? 

You made me smile when you spoke as if my arrival 
among you would produce a sensation. Should I draw a 
crowd of admirers, the greatest wonclerer would be the 
person wondered at, and he would be among the first to 
retreat. With all my efforts, I cannot connect anything 
extraordinary with the idea of myself. I am not insen- 
sible, I think, to my just claims. I believe that I have 
thought with some power and to some effect. But what 
I have done is so little compared with what I have 
hoped and proposed, and I see myself outdone by so 
many in various particulars, that my demands on the 
world's notice are very moderate. I do not mean by 
this language to represent myself as superior to the 
passion for distinction. But my love of domestic retire- 
ment, my great susceptibility of tranquil pleasure, parti- 
cularly the pleasures of intellectual exertion and of com- 
munion with nature, and a conviction which very early 
sprung up in me of the worthlessness of most worldly 
applause, have prevented ambition from becoming my 
besetting sin. Were I to visit your country, after in- 
dulging myself liberally in your society and that of a 
few friends, I should incline to plunge into some beau- 
tiful retreat in Devonshire, or wherever you fix your 
finest climate. A fine climate ! What a good these words 
contain to me ! It is worth more than all renown, con- 
sidering renown as a personal good, and not a moral power 
which may help to change the face of society. The delight 



144 



TO MISS AIKIK. 



which I find in a beautiful country, breathing and feeling 
a balmy atmosphere and walking under a magnificent 
sky, is so pure and deep, that it seems to me worthy of 
the future world. Not that I am in danger of any excess 
in this particular; for I never forget how very, very 
inferior this tranquil pleasure is to disinterested action ; 
and I trust that I should joyfully forego these gratifica- 
tions of an invalid to toil and suffer for my race. You 
see, then, the motives which would draw me to England. 
Notice, attention, celebrity, would not enter my thoughts. 
The hope of forming or continuing acquaintance, and 
still more friendship, with the distinguished in intellect 
and virtue, would be a strong attraction ; but the strongest 
attraction would be a milder and more equal climate, 
where I might enjoy more of the tranquil pleasures 
which are so dear to me ; and, above all, might be able 
to do something more than I can here for the cause of 
truth, freedom and humanity. Pardon this egotism. I 
will not trouble you again with so large a portion of it. 

I earnestly pray that your anticipation from the Eeform 
Bill may be realized. 1 doubt not that it will prove a 
great good, though mixed with evil, and slower in its 
operation than some imagine. My only fear about it, 
which I believe I expressed to you, has been that it 
might extend the elective franchise too far at present. 
This ought, indeed, to be universal ; that is, a community 
should so instruct and improve all classes that all may 
be prepared to exercise it ; but as long as an ignorant 
and degraded class exist, who would use it only for 
their own injury and that of the State, benevolence and 
justice require that they should be denied it. From the 
composition of your towns, I have feared that the quali- 
fication in those places was too low; but I cannot at 
this distance form a decided opinion. The conduct of 
the aristocracy through this whole affair has given me 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



145 



apprehension. It shows how hard it is for a privileged 
body to act with common judgment when their own 
privileges are touched. Your nobility would not and 
could not understand that Eeform was not the cry of the 
mob — the populace — but of the nation; and they de- 
liberately set themselves in hostility to the nation, and 
the King too, on a point which roused the whole sensi- 
bility of the people, and which was thought to involve 
their most sacred rights. How they could have contrived 
to make themselves more odious I do not know. Nor 
was this all. They invited contempt as well as hatred. 
They pledged themselves to resist this measure even 
unto blood. They affirmed that to concede it was to 
concede everything, so that the time had come to con- 
quer or die for the constitution ; but, when the voice of 
the people grew sterner, they shrunk from the position. 
"What I fear is, that the relation between the aristocracy 
and the nation has become a hostile one, and this bodes 
ill for your domestic peace. I cannot regret that the 
bishops were struck with the same judicial blindness 
which fell on the nobles. The sooner they are dismissed 
from the Parliament, the better. Their proper influence, 
which is more spiritual, will be increased by putting off 
their temporal dignities. When thus confined to their 
proper sphere, I hope they will be liberally supported, 
and not exposed to anything like abuse from sectaries 
and ultra-liberalists. I know, indeed, that the present 
form of the institution is very childish. That an office 
which has but one aim, to teach men love to God and to 
one another, to teach God's equal parental interest in 
all mankind, should be tricked out in pompous titles, 
gorgeous robes, mitres, and civil dignities, is an incon- 
gruity at which one might smile, could we forget the 
influence of these puerilities on the fortunes of the race. 
Still, the bishops should be gently treated. I think not 

H 



146 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



a little deference is due to the great multitude among 
you who still worship lawn sleeves ; and then the 
"bishops, generally speaking, are men of so much excel- 
lence as to deserve respect. At least I hear good accounts 
of them, always bating their political servilities. In 
proportion as the true, pure, simple idea of religion is 
brought out, the bishop and the priest must go down, 
and the process is sure enough to satisfy the rational 
friends of improvement. 

You ask me what I think of pride of birth as forming 
the perfect gentleman. I have no room to reply. I will 
only say that I should reluctantly part with aristocracy, 
if I thought the perfect gentleman was to vanish with 
it. But I am sure that the grace, refinement and charm 
of the gentlemanly character may be much more effec- 
tually promoted by another principle, and I am more 
and more confident that through this they are to be 
diffused gradually through all classes of society. But 
more of this hereafter. I rejoice that King Charles is 
in progress; I look forward to it as one of my great 
pleasures. 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Channing. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, October 15, 1832. 

I will follow your example by answering your letter 
immediately — always the time when one is most dis- 
posed to answer. I liked everything in it but the 
report of your susceptibility to cold so early in the 
season. Here we have one of the finest autumns ever 
known. I wish I could bag up for you the west wind 
which is waving his balmy wings at my open window. 



TO DK. CHAXXIXG. 



147 



I still live in hopes that we shall some time or other 
lure you hither, and then you will know whether I was 
right or not in promising or threatening that you should 
be a lion. That you would soon be weary of perform- 
ing that part I can readily believe, but I am sure that 
we have minds over which you must rejoice to feel the 
benignant influence which vou have exerted. You 
desire me not to use my recovered energies too freely. 
There is no danger. Eager as I am for the completion 
of my long task. I am not permitted to sit too closely at 
it, for I am now surrounded by a close circle of friends 
and neighbours who tempt me daily into delicious idle- 
ness — if I may call that social intercourse idleness in 
which neither head nor heart is unoccupied. It will be 
three or four months yet before I shall have made an 
end of King Charles ; but I begin to ask myself, what 
next ? With my habits of literary labour, vacation will 
soon become tedious, and I must look out for another 
task. Pray assist me. I am resolved against proceed- 
ing further with English sovereigns — Charles II. is no 
theme for me ; it would make me contemn my species. 
If I could discover how my pen could do most good, 
to that object it should without hesitation be devoted. 
Profit I have no need of, and of reputation I have all I 
want. My mind is often burdened with the conscious- 
ness of doing little good, and an ignorance in what way 
to attempt doing more. If I am capable of benefiting 
any class, it must be one considerably removed from the 
lowest, of whom, whatever you may think of the con- 
fession, I have never seen enough to know at all how to 
address them. One comfort is, that there is still plenty 
of ignorance and noxious error to be pointed out in ail 
classes. But the office of censor morum is not one which 
I covet ; for who and what am I \ I can imagine, but 
I know not whether I could execute, something in the 

H 2 



148 



TO DR. CHANNIXG-. 



way of essays, or letters — moral, literary and miscel- 
laneous — which might be made to serve good ends. But 
this is quite in the air. 

Know that a great new light has arisen among English 
women. In the words of Lord Brougham, " There is a 
deaf girl at Norwich doing more good than any man in 
the country." You may have seen the name and some 
of the productions of Harriet Martineau in the " Monthly 
Bepository," but what she is gaining glory by are " Illus- 
trations of Political Economy," in a series of tales pub- 
lished periodically, of which nine or ten have appeared. 
It is impossible not to wonder at the skill with which, 
in the happiest of these pieces, for they are unequal, she 
has exemplified some of the deepest principles of her 
science, so as to make them plain to very ordinary 
capacities, and demonstrated their practical influence 
on the well-being, moral and physical, of the working 
classes first, and ultimately on the whole community. 
And with all this, she has given to her narratives a 
grace, an animation, and often a powerful pathos, rare 
even in works of pure amusement. Last year she called 
on me several times, and I was struck with marks of 
such an energy and resolution in her as, I thought, must 
command success in some line or other, though it did 
not then appear in what. She has a vast store of know- 
ledge on many deep and difficult subjects ; a wonderful 
store for a person scarcely thirty, and her observation of 
common things must have been extraordinarily correct 
as well as rapid. — I believe you may dismiss your fears 
of too wide an extension of suffrage under the Beform 
Bill. The total number of ten-pound householders turns 
out less than almost any one expected, and the " de- 
graded class " are almost all lodgers, and the condition of 
a previous paying up of rates annexed to the privilege 
of voting has so much further reduced them, that in 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



149 



many places the constituencies are manifestly still too 
small to be out of- reach of bribery. It is impossible 
quite to suppress anxiety for the general result of the 
coming elections, but all the friends of rational liberty I 
talk with are full of happy auguries. It is quite true, as 
you say, that the Tories have made, and are still making, 
themselves both odious and contemptible ; but I do not 
think the public peace is threatened, because it seems 
pretty certain that they will be left in a decided minority 
in both Houses, so that the people can afford to forgive 
them. John Bull is not of a vindictive temper, especially 
when a plentiful harvest has put him in good heart and 
good humour. You think quite as well of our bishops 
as they deserve. The venerable Bishop of Norwich, of 
whom Sydney Smith happily said, " he should touch for 
bigotry and absurdity," stands very much alone amongst 
them ; however, I do not wish them hurt in the least, 
nor frightened further than is necessary to urge them to 
quit their political station. The separation of Church 
and State is, in my opinion, by much the most important 
victory which the people have still to achieve. When 
our bishops shall be in the state of your bishops, cer- 
tainly my animosity against them will extend "not a 
frown further;" but till that happens, all fair means of 
lessening them in the eyes of the people must be al- 
lowed. It is even marvellous to see how much the 
Church is daily losing ground. It has no longer the 
reverence of the lower classes in general, and by the 
middling classes it begins to be regarded with the same 
feelings as the lay Tories so generally excite. Its best 
friends come forward with plans of moderate reform. So 
long as Dissenters are compelled to pay towards the 
support of a Church which they regard as corrupt in 
discipline and doctrine, and the preachers of which still 
thunder against the sin of schism and labour to bring 



150 



TO DE. CHANGING. 



sectaries into the hatred and contempt of their hearers 
— so long the State religion must, and will, and ought to 
be the object of hostility and attack to all lovers of equal 
justice and of the best interests of man. Such, at least, 
is my sense of things. I think you can scarcely imagine 
the tone taken by High-church people of the upper 
classes on these matters. A lady who belongs to the 
first circles, taking for granted that one must be ortho- 
dox, expressed to me lately her horror at worthy and 
learned old Baron Mazeres. who " towards the end of his 
life not only became an Unitarian, but endeavoured to 
propagate those doctrines." As if a man ought to think 
his own opinions dangerous or pernicious to others ! 

Your cholera precautions are indeed admirable, and I 
trust they will prove effectual. Here the disease con- 
tinues making considerable ravages, but we begin to grow 
used to it. It does sometimes, however, attack very 
sober and respectable people. I have personally known 
some victims of this class. Soon after it appeared in 
London, great alarm was excited by the death of a lady 
of quality, till it was charitably whispered that the tem- 
perate need not be the more apprehensive on account of 
this event. It is suspected that the Irish in St. Giles's 
and such places have perished in considerable numbers, 
but they disguise the cases from their violent prejudice 
against early burials without the accompaniment of a 
drunken wake. How are we to civilize these wretched 
people ? Not by dragooning them, say you, and I agree ; 
but this negative is more clear than anything positive 
respecting them. I wonder whether you have seen a 
small book published by Eammohun Eoy containing 
translations of several of the Hindoo Veds ? I have 
found a good deal of interest in this view of theology 
and metaphysics of a nation so remote in every respect 
from us and our ways of thinking. The great point 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



151 



which the true friend of his country and his race has had 
in view in his various controversies with his own country- 
men, has been to show that, although some idolatrous 
rites are sanctioned by their sacred books, yet it has 
always been the doctrine of the most authentic of these, 
that the highest future happiness was only attainable by 
a pure and austere life and the worship of the invisible, 
universal Spirit — that idolatry was for the gross and 
ignorant, rites and observances for them only. Thus he 
shows that eternal felicity — that is, absorption into the 
supreme Spirit — is promised to women who after the 
death of their husbands lead devout and holy lives ; and 
only a poor lease of thirty-five millions of years of happi- 
ness with their husbands to such as burn with them, 
after the expiration of which their souls are to transmi- 
grate into different animals. This you will say is mighty 
puerile, but it is at least meeting his antagonists on their 
own ground. Afterwards he details the many cruelties 
and oppressions to which females in his country are 
subjected by the injustice and barbarity of the stronger 
sex, and pleads for pity towards them with such power- 
ful, heartfelt eloquence, as no woman, I think, can peruse 
without tears and fervent invocations of blessings on his 
head. The Eajah is now at Paris, where I doubt if he 
will find much gratification, as he is not well versed in 
the French language ; he will return to us, however, soon 
after the meeting of Parliament. I dread the effects of 
another English winter on his constitution ; and yet it 
almost seems as if a life like his must be under the 
peculiar guardianship of Providence. 

What a charming poet is your Bryant ! I am just 
reading Mr. Irving's collection of his poems. Do you 
know the author ? I am curious about him. 

I am not acquainted with anybody in your country 
who would take charge of a book for me ; but anything 



152 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



that should reach either Eobert Kinder, or Dr. Boott, or 
Mr. P. Vaughan, would be forwarded to me. 

A brimful sheet, as usual ! In writing to you, my ex- 
cellent friend, I never want matter. May health and 
every good attend you ! 

Yours ever truly, 

L. AlKIN. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, November 19, 1832. 

Oh, my dear friend ! I was told yesterday that you 
had been very, very ill, and though it was added that 
you were now better, I have been able to think of little 
else since. What would I give to know how you are at 
this now that I am writing ! This distance which sepa- 
rates us has something truly fearful in such circumstances. 
Would you had postponed all other considerations, how- 
ever urgent, however affecting, to the one great object, 
your own health ! Would you had sought our milder 
skies early in the autumn! I fear that, unless you 
should have embarked ere this, it must not be thought 
of till spring ; but surely you will then transport your- 
self hither, and thus escape one of the trying seasons of 
your climate, which I take the early months to be. I 
have lately seen two or three very striking instances of 
the wonderfully restorative effects of our southern coasts 
in pulmonary cases. At this time I have a friend at 
Hastings reported quite well both by himself and others, 
who was absolutely given over last spring in London, 
and whom for some time in the summer, which he spent 
at Hampstead, I never saw within my doors without 
fearing it was for the last time. Another friend has 
been so fortified by two winters spent in the south, after 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



153 



the case seemed desperate, as now to be enabled to 
return to her native cold and wet Lancashire, where she 
has medical permission to winter. Well ! I would not 
teaze you with more of this ; no doubt you have around 
you both the skilful and the kindest of the kind. My 
great inducement for writing was the hope that a little 
of this mute kind of chit-chat, which calls for no exercise 
of the voice in answer, might somewhat cheer your sick- 
room ; at least you will accept it with kindness, as the 
only thing in which I can. show my deep interest in the 
benefactor to whom I owe what is above all price — the 
sentiments which do most towards rendering us worthy 
of the future. Never, my friend, are you forgotten when 
my soul seeks communion with our common Father ; and 
when I strive most earnestly to overcome some evil 
propensity, or to make some generous sacrifice, the. 
thought of you gives me strength not my own, 

I have written to you so lately and so largely, that 
some of my usual topics are nearly exhausted ; still we 
have a little of novelty. In the beginning of November 
Term begins, and all the lawyers come to town. With 
their arrival commence my London dinner visits ; for * 
my most intimate friendships happen to be amongst this 
set, and I have already made one excursion to town, from 
which I gleaned a good deal. You know, of course, by 
reputation, our new Lord Chief Justice, Denman — the 
zealous defender of poor Queen Caroline, who in his 
excitation called our last king Nero, and our present one 
"a base calumniator." He wants caution, and is not 
the deepest of our lawyers ; but his promotion is hailed 
by all congenial spirits as a triumphant example of the 
highest professional dignities attained by a man who 
never showed any other fear than that of being thought 
capable of sacrificing the most minute portion of truth, 
the nicest punctilio of honour, to any worldly interest. 

H 3 



154 



TO DR. CHANNING, 



Glorious days in which such conduct finds such accept- 
ance ! On his taking leave of Lincoln's Inn in conse- 
quence of his promotion, a speech was made to him by 
his old friend the Vice-Chancellor, complimenting him 
on the love of liberty he had ever manifested, in a strain 
which drew tears down the furrowed cheeks of the old 
benchers — practised worldlings as they must be. This 
glorious man — by the way, his person is made for dignity 
— was Mrs. Barbauld's pupil at four years old. I think 
it must have been chiefly for him that her " Hymns in 
Prose" were written ; and he cherishes her memory most 
religiously. In a great public entertainment where I 
met him last year, he came up to me and said with a 
look of delight, " I dreamed of Mrs. Barbauld only last 
night !" He has a love and a taste for poetry and 
elegant literature worthy of her scholar, and I doubt not 
that she sowed the seed. In the move which Denman's 
appointment has made, another stanch friend of the 
people has become Solicitor-General. It is of great 
importance thus to recommend the laws to the many 
by the character of those who administer them. 

I think I told you Hallam had become a Conservative 
and alarmist; but he seems to me to have recovered 
his spirits since last spring, and to be relapsing into a 
Liberal. He confesses to me that he is reading hard for 
a purpose, but will not yet say what. We again croaked 
together over the decline of literature, and modestly 
concluded that it was our duty to write as much and as 
well as we could. We canvassed much the good and 
evil of the new Penny Magazines and Cyclopaedias, 
which are selling by hundreds of thousands ; and all we 
could decide was, that condemning the superficial and 
desultory spirit which these and other periodicals and 
abridgments were fitted to diffuse, it was still impossible 
not to rejoice that food so innocent was found for the 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



155 



popular mind, and was welcome to it. An indirect 
benefit we also acknowledged from this new literature ; 
its having to a great extent superseded the religious tracts 
of the Evangelicals, which their busy zeal threatened to 
render the exclusive study of the working classes. Per- 
haps it is in this last respect that the Useful Knowledge 
Society has proved most beneficial ; and no doubt it was 
a leading, though unavowed, object of the founders thus 
to put fanaticism's nose out of joint (if you will allow 
such a grotesque expression). 

Are we, or are we not, at war with our old friends the 
Dutch ? This seems to be a question which nobody 
knows very well how to answer. For my part, I have 
such an opinion of the natural pugnacity of the human 
species, that I dread exceedingly these beginnings of 
strife ; but poverty, the peace-preserver, still keeps watch 
over every European potentate, and I trust will withhold 
the means of mischief. There can be no doubt of the 
pacific dispositions of our present ministry ; but they are 
unhappily committed in some degree by the acts of their 
predecessors, and there is also some danger that the 
obstinate King of Holland, by presuming too much on 
our forbearance, may render it a point of what is called 
national honour to forbear no longer. These are anxious 
considerations. Xo one can pretend to calculate the 
confusion and mischief which the expense of one cam- 
paign might cause to us in our present situation. But 
let us not be " over-curious to shape the fashion of 
uncertain evil." 

These November fogs have brought me down a little 
from my high boast of health, and interrupted somewhat 
my historic diligence. I suspect that the weakness in 
my chest will oblige me to keep the house in all unge- 
nial winds this winter. But no matter, my fireside is 
cheery. My dear new neighbours, the Le Bretons, are 



156 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



an inestimable acquisition. Here I paused to welcome 
Harriet Martineau, with all her blushing honours thick 
upon her. The Chancellor has sent for her expressly to 
write tales illustrative of pauperism, and has supplied 
her for the purpose with an immense mass of documents 
accessible only to official persons. I believe she will do 
much good ; her motives and principles are pure and 
high, and success, as I predicted, has improved, not 
spoiled her. Indeed, she has very extraordinary talent 
and merit, and a noble independence of mind. I will 
stop here ; may this little pledge of friendship find you 
in a state at least of tolerable ease. I shall inquire of 
you from every probable source of intelligence. 
May Heaven preserve my precious friend ! 

L. AlKIN. 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, January 3, 1833. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Your letter of October has just 
reached me. It seems that in the letter to which you 
replied, I spoke of myself as threatened with disease. I 
proved too true a prophet. About the end of August I 
was driven to my chamber by a pulmonary complaint 
which wasted my strength and flesh so fast, that my 
friends became justly apprehensive as to the result. My 
mind sympathized more than ordinarily with the body. 
I retained clear and joyful convictions of the great truths 
with which I had been familiar, but was not equal to 
the least intellectual labour. Our autumn was singularly 
delightful ; and when I was able to creep to the window, 
the most inviting prospects were spread around me ; but 
the effort of looking at a flower or tree was too much for 
me, and I was compelled to turn away from the beauty 



TO MISS AIKItt. 



157 



after which I had sighed. I smile now when I remember 
how I felt the disappointment, and how I reconciled 
myself to it. I considered with Plato that this outward 
beauty was but a type or emblem of that spiritual beauty 
to which I had perpetual access, and that whilst sur- 
rounding nature w^ould fade before I should gain strength 
to enjoy it, still the fountain of all its glories and loveli- 
ness was inexhaustible, and would never fail me. What 
strange beings we are ! At the very moment when I 
was almost weak enough to shed tears at being cut off 
from the beautiful universe, I was able to find con- 
solation and peace in reflections such as these. My 
recovery was rapid beyond expectation, after my disease 
was subdued, and I arn not without hope that I may be 
better than I have been for some time. The last year 
has been an unfavourable one. For the last ten months 
I have preached but once, and my literary labours have 
advanced very little. But I do not despair of accom- 
plishing some of my plans. At least it is a great happi- 
ness to have some worthy plans, towards the execution 
of which a step may now and then have been taken. 
During my recovery, a friend began to read to me Le 
Bas' Wiclif, which you had named to me. You little 
thought what a task you were imposing on me. The 
High-church notions of the writer troubled me not at 
all, any farther than it is sad to meet puerilities and 
absurdities in men who set up for oracles. But his 
High- church style was a real grievance. Very often my 
weak head was exhausted by the task of extracting the 
essential fact from the swelling, self-complacent rhetoric 
in which it was enveloped. Still there was much in the 
book to gratify me. Bating some extravagances of this 
radical reformer, he is more to my taste than his suc- 
cessor on the continent. I was sorry not to see the 
passages of Wiclif on which Melancthon founded the 



158 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



charge of heresy. I suspect the liberal and spiritual view 
of Wiclif would put to shame the Thirty-nine Articles. 
I ought to say that I found much relief to the weary 
hours of sickness in listening to some of Scott's novels. 
He was anything but a philosopher. But in extent of 
observation, in the quick perception of the endless varie- 
ties of human character, in the discovery of their signs and 
manifestations, and in the inventive and graphic power 
by which he embodies them and places them before us 
with the freshness and vividness of reality, where will you 
find his equal ? I do not know the author who has given 
the same amount of innocent pleasure. Millions in both 
worlds are debtors to hirn. Others have done far greater 
good in kind or quality, but none in extent or amount. 
I forgive him his Toryism, and can even pardon his 
consummate weakness in attaching greater importance 
to outward distinctions than to his genius. This was 
Toryism with a vengeance ; but I owe him too much to 
reprove him severely. I do not say that he ever touches 
the highest springs within me, but he has bound me by 
new sympathies to my race ; and, what in such a world 
or, I would say, in such a body is of no small account, 
he has beguiled and delighted not a few hours which 
hardly any other books could have enlivened. Let me 
here say a word about Sir James Mackintosh. One of 
our reviewers has published an account of a conversa- 
tion with him, in which Sir J. is thought sometimes to 
speak as a Calvinist. I have smiled at seeing him ranged 
under that standard. Can you tell me to what theolo- 
gical opinions he inclined ? It is amusing to see how 
parties seize on great men as their property. We have 
lately had here Dr. Spurzheim, the phrenologist, who 
was eminently liberal in his views, but after his death 
some expressions in his lectures were made use of to 
press him into the ranks of Calvinism. Did you know 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



159 



anything of this good man ? for such he seemed to have 
been. He made a greater impression in our city than 
any foreigner, and his death called forth a general sorrow. 
His lectures interested all ranks. He made few converts 
to craniology ; but he was thought to possess a singular 
insight into human nature, and his hearers thought they 
gained from him that inestimable treasure, self-compre- 
hension. I was too sick to hear him. Did he make any 
impression as favourable in your country ? All who 
knew him here were struck with his unaffected philan- 
thropy, and this was the great charm of his lectures. 
As far as I have seen phrenological writings, they breathe 
this spirit, and give some excellent views on the subject 
of the improvement of the race. I have this moment a 
phrenological head and brain on my table, and a young 
lady by the side of it, of a fine intellect and character, 
who has studied the science. She has been polite enough 
to find all the nobler organs in my head, so that I have 
no personal objections to the truth of the doctrine. 

I will read Miss Martineau. I delight in every 
instance of the successful pursuit of great subjects by 
your sex. I almost wish at this moment that we had 
women at the head of our government. Do you know 
that we are threatened with civil war ? I trust only 
threatened. But with women for our rulers we should 
have no bloodshed ; and when I see how affairs are 
managed, I do not see how the ladies could do worse. 
It is consoling to see what progress the human race have 
made under bad governments. They have contrived to 
stagger forward under many a crushing load. How will 
they advance when set free ? I do not mean by this 
that ive are greatly oppressed ; but excess of legislation 
has produced serious discontents. I shall rejoice to tell 
you in my next that they are removed. 

If I can think of any work for you to engage in after 



160 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



Charles is ended, I will name it. Generally, however, 
we are the best judges of what we can do. I wait 
impatiently for your book, not only because it is yours, 
but because I wish to understand that period better. 
May you preserve health, and may every blessing be 
yours ! 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 

I have taken the liberty to pu blish in a religious paper 
your accounts of Miss Martineau and of Eammohun 
Koy's books. I wish to bring these persons before the 
public. Have you any objection to my using your letters 
occasionally in this way ? 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, January 12, 1833. 

My dear Miss Aikin,— I received two or three days 
ago your letter of November 19th, and, though I wrote 
you last week, I cannot refrain from replying to it im- 
mediately. I thank you for the affectionate solicitude 
and the fervent wishes for my recovery which it ex- 
presses. The language of such friendship from one so 
distant, and who thinks herself indebted to me for some 
of her best blessings, is truly cheering and strengthening. 
My last letter will set you very much at ease about my 
health. I am living, indeed, very much in my chamber, 
but my lungs seem to be restored to their usual state. 
When the weather favours, I walk abroad and take the 
open air, which is one of my great luxuries. It seems 
to me that I enjoy the free air as few do. Perhaps I 
confirmed my late disease by sitting abroad after I had 
taken a cold. A balmy or bracing atmosphere is a con- 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



161 



stant delight to me. I think my sensations help me to 
explain one of the fancies of your noble Platonist, Henry 
More, who used to think, when a refreshing breeze was 
blowing on him, that the Holy Spirit was breathing on 
his soul. I am, however, most of my time a prisoner, 
and should rejoice to transport myself for a while to 
your southern coasts. I feel as if that climate might 
suit me better than any other. I have tried Italy and 
the West Indies, with little benefit, England seems to 
be the one retreat left. But at present I form no plans. 
I should not know what to do with my children in your 
country. My boy, now thirteen, is not prepared for the 
severe, perhaps I might say, barbarous discipline of your 
schools. He was never struck by a teacher, and an 
English whipping might ruin him. My daughter is the 
most social of human beings, and very susceptible of 
impression from companions, and in a foreign land the 
difficulty of choosing the best associates is great. You 
see how many mountains lie between us. I am willing, 
however, to make many sacrifices for health — not that 
I suffer greatly from the want of it, except in my 
capacity of labour ; and this, indeed, is a melancholy 
exception. I feel as if I had done very little as yet 
of what I might do for my fellow-beings or for myself, 
.but any considerable effort prostrates me. I have as yet 
done justice to none of my views, and showed their 
practical application very imperfectly; but enough of 
myself. You will excuse me when you consider that 
your interest in my present situation is my only motive 
for writing. 

I forgot to answer in my last your inquiries about 
Bryant. He is a man in middle life, a native of this 
State, and brought up to the profession of the law in the 
interior. But literature seduced him from law, and he 
went to New York, hoping to live chiefly by his pen, 



162 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



He commenced a review, which failed, and was obliged 
to become joint editor of a newspaper, to which he is 
now devoted. Mr. Bryant, though a partizan, has never 
been charged with unworthy motives. His poetry, I 
daresay, has led you to place him amidst woods and 
streams ; but, instead of this, he lives amidst political 
storms, and is breathing the impure air of a city noto- 
riously devoted to gaiety. This situation has almost 
necessarily turned him away from poetry. He writes 
seldom and makes no sustained efforts, but now and then 
his first love — Nature — haunts him amidst his labours, 
and wakes up his fine powers. He is generally placed 
at the head of our poets. 

I wanted to write you about our political situation, 
which at this moment absorbs us, so that we think little 
of Europe. One of our States, South Carolina, has de- 
clared the recent tariffs imposed by the general govern- 
ment for the protection of manufactures, to be null and 
void, and threatens to resist by force the collection of 
duties within her borders. The President, on the other 
hand, threatens to reduce her to obedience by arms. 
You in England understand probably very little of the 
merits of the case, nor can you without understanding 
the relations between the General and State Govern- 
ments, and the strange vacillations of our parties, which 
have wheeled and wheeled till they now occupy each the 
original ground of its adversary. I cannot now carry 
you over this field, and have only space to assure you 
that I remain 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Ghanning. 



TO DR. (MANNING. 



163 



To Dr. Chanxing. 

Hampstead, February 10, 1833. 

Many, many thanks to toil my dear friend, for your 
two welcome letters, and the excellent news they con- 
tain ! It is indeed delightful to find you speaking so 
cheerily, both of the past, the present, and the future, 
and the most delightful of all is, that you still think 
of England. To level some at least of the mountains 
which, as you say, still rise between us, will be no hard 
task. First, the barbarous and odious practice of whip- 
ping is obsolete in nearly all our schools, except the 
public ones of ancient foundation, such as Eton, West- 
minster, &c, to which many other considerations would 
restrain you from sending your son. In that attached 
to the London University, to which my nephew goes, 
230 boys are kept in order without any corporal punish- 
ment ; in short, we would ensure your lad a whole skin. 
Then, as to your sweet girl, there would really be no 
more danger than everywhere arises from the little 
acquaintance which parents in general can have with 
the individual characters of the younger generation who 
are their children's contemporaries. You might easily 
be directed to families the most likely to afford fit asso- 
ciates for her. I cannot persuade myself that the very 
small difference of temperature between a snug situation 
in the immediate neighbourhood of London, and the 
southern coast, would be of moment to you ; compared 
to the difference between the last and Xew England, it 
is nothing. Even in this village, placed as it is on a 
hill, very sheltered nooks may be found, and the air is 
eminently salubrious ; and oh ! if we could get you all 
here, how much we could do — I am confident we could 
— towards placing you in the midst of a small select 



164 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



circle where you would be appreciated, and your children 
would form connections such as you could not but ap- 
prove ! Several circumstances render society here pecu- 
liarly easy and pleasant ; in many respects the place 
unites the advantages and escapes the evils both of 
London and the provincial towns. It is near enough to 
allow its inhabitants to partake in the society, the amuse- 
ments, and the accommodations of the capital as freely 
as even the dissipated could desire ; whilst it affords 
pure air, lovely scenery, and retired and beautiful walks ; 
and because every one is supposed to have a London set 
of friends, neighbours do not think it necessary, as in 
the provinces, to force their acquaintance upon you ; of 
local society you may have much, little, or none, as you 
please ; and with a little, which is very good, you may 
associate on the easiest terms; then the summer brings 
an influx of Londoners who are often genteel and agree- 
able people, and pleasingly vary the scene. Such is 
Hampstead : ask Mrs. Farrar if I exaggerate. The sub- 
ject threatens to run away with me ; but here I leave it, 
for I have much to answer. 

I like and can subscribe to your praise of Scott as a 
writer. Sir James Mackintosh was no doubt brought up 
a Calvinist ; but I have seen a letter of his written from 
India to his old friend Eobert Hall, then lately recovered 
from an attack of insanity, in which he warns him 
against dwelling on gloomy systems of religion as no 
one could have done who was a Calvinist, or, I should 
think, who believed salvation dependent on any parti- 
cular creed. Eead in the last number of the "Edin- 
burgh Eeview," the article on Lord Mahon's History. I 
believe you will think the writer of it much improved 
since he reviewed Milton, and gave so dashing a sketch 
of the Puritans. This writer is Macaulay, confessedly 
the first young speaker in the House of Commons. As 



TO DR. CHANKTNa 



165 



reviewer, as orator, as politician, lie, if any one, promises 
to be the successor or rival of Brougham. I have never 
seen him, but I hear of him as presumptuous — at least 
this was his character at the outset. He grapples boldly 
and ably with O'Connell in the House. 

On the brink of civil war yourselves, you might veil 
be excused for thinking little of Europe and her con- 
cerns ; but we here give you credit for too much wisdom 
by far to proceed to that dread extremity, and I trust 
that by this time you are coming to some amicable com- 
promise ; if so, you may be willing to hear something of 
the progress of our revolution. Yes, revolution ; it is no 
less ; of this it is impossible not to be more and more 
sensible every day. The Eeform Bill now shows itself 
fully in the character of means to an end — and what 
end ? Of this different parties would give different 
accounts ; that is, some require more, some would be 
content with fewer, concessions of the few to the many ; 
but all agree that numerous and important ones must and 
will be made. Ireland, miserable Ireland ! a prey to so 
many evils, stained with so many crimes, and almost 
reduced to anarchy, what shall we do for her ? To return 
into the right way after wide deviations, is as arduous a 
task in the government of nations as in the conduct of 
individuals ; in fact, almost all the puzzling questions 
in public, as in private morals, arise from having set out 
wrong. The Protestant Church of Ireland is probably 
the most monstrous anomaly, the most barefaced wrong, 
in all ecclesiastical history ; but it cannot be overthrown 
without some consideration for the vested rights enjoyed 
under it, and the same may be said respecting other in- 
terests there. Then, although the people are enduring 
many evils and oppressions, they must not be suffered 
to fill the land with robbery and murder ; and the poli- 
tical agitators, though their views may be patriotic, and 



166 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



though by their efforts some wrongs have been and 
others will be redressed, must not be suffered to go on 
goading a ferocious people to fury, and an absurd people 
to folly and ruin. The Union must be preserved for 
Ireland's own sake. It is impossible to dwell upon these 
considerations without alternately blaming, pitying and 
dreading all parties. But how wonderful and admirable 
is the complication of good with evil in the whole system 
of things ! How unexpectedly do the results of things 
come out ! To the Irish Papists, the objects of their 
bitterest, their most inveterate hatred, have the descend- 
ants of the English Puritans been indebted for the 
establishment of their civil rights. To the crying ini- 
quity of the Church of Ireland, English Dissenters are 
likely eventually to owe emancipation from the exclusive 
claims of the Church of England. I view with intense 
interest the progress of the Church reform in which we 
are engaged. Take my word for it, it will go far, and 
end in the acknowledgment of broad principles. Protest- 
ant exclusiveness, when cited to the bar of Eeason, has 
nothing, absolutely nothing, to say; and this is a reason- 
ing age. Thousands are coming to a clear perception 
how completely the interests of the Church and the 
interests of Eeligion are different, nay, opposite things. 
Nor do I fear that, according to the distinction of Hume, 
fanaticism should here gain what superstition is likely to 
lose. The schoolmaster is fast emancipating the people 
from both, and without producing irreligion. 

Eternal honour to Brougham for his " Useful and En- 
tertaining Knowledge/' and his " Penny Magazine " ! 
They have done very much towards beating Evangelical 
tracts and the good-boy books of the High-church Tories 
out of the field. The whole tendency of these publica- 
tions, as far as I know them, is to instil that sober 
morality, that pure and simple piety, with which, as you 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



167 



would say, narrow and debasing views of God and of 
religion cannot co-exist. And do yon think you have 
done nothing towards this great work ? You should see 
a little work published by Mr. Tagart, a London Uni- 
tarian minister, the " Life of Captain Heywood," to learn 
in what esteem your writings were held by a noble- 
minded, beneficent, upright naval officer. There is a 
chord in all such hearts which responds to your teaching. 
I hear of your writings, see your name mentioned on all 
sides ; even our clergy mention it with deep respect. 
Oh ! come to us ; breathe our air, which may preserve 
you in vigour, not alone for your own sake, or that of 
your family, but for England's and mankind's ! 

Mr. Vaughan's ship, with your precious volume, for 
which I return you my best thanks by anticipation, is 
not yet arrived ; but he says he expects it daily. I have 
had a glimpse, however, of the English reprint of the 
book ; a glimpse only, for it was lent to Mr. Le Breton* 
and to me, and in our mingled politeness and impatience 
we have been sending it to each other, and then snatch- 
ing it back, so that neither of us has yet had much good 
of it. He has been an active circulator of your works, 
and no one more delights in them. You must know 
each other some time. — I lament over the unpoetical 
destiny of the poet Bryant; his admirers should have 
endeavoured to have procured for him some humble in- 
dependence ; but it will be long, I suspect, before you 
pension men of letters. We do little in this way. As 
to poor Spurzheim, I hear, for I never saw him, that he 
was much liked in society, and our anatomists much ad- 
mired his mode of dissecting, or rather unravelling, the 
texture of the brain ; but his system made few disciples 
amongst men of real science ; and though I believe he 
individually was thought tolerably ingenious in it, a 

* The late Rev. Philip Le Breton. 



168 



TO DR, CHANNTNG. 



shade of empiricism was cast over him, which prevented 
his ever taking rank here ; and his pecuniary encourage- 
ment was small. I think the spirit of philanthropy is 
almost a national characteristic of the frank and honest 
Germans ; their writings, as far as I can judge of them 
from translations and critiques, very generally breathe 
it ; and in the midst of their credulity and mysticism 
there is a deep and original vein of thinking which I 
should delight to explore if I possessed their language. 

There is no hurry for a new scheme to succeed " King 
Charles " with me. Never was I so tasked ; matter 
grows upon my hands ; to condense it sufficiently is an 
immense difficulty. The book will certainly disappoint 
you when finished, in this respect if in no other. I have 
been obliged, in order to keep within compass and pre- 
serve the character of court memoirs, to say little or 
nothing of the Puritans after the beginning of the war. 
When the King quits his capital, so do I, and thenceforth 
he and his courtiers make my sole theme. I have still 
full three months' work to do ; but I am pretty well, and 
work with pleasure. 

What I wrote you of Miss Martineau and of the 
Rajah's book, I cannot now remember ; but I have full 
confidence in your discretion, and shall be but too happy 
if anything I write you is capable of being made useful. 
Miss Martineau has been engaged by the Chancellor to 
write, from materials in the possession of government, a 
series of tales illustrative of the working of the poor-laws. 
She says the documents are rich in pathetic interest. I 
believe she is doing much good. Joanna Baillie has 
written some very affectionate lines on Scott, which she 
will send you. I know not why she should have taken 
this opportunity to strike at Byron. JSTo need of crying 
down one poet in order to cry up another ; nor will all 
the just censures of Byron's morality sink him in his 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



169 



poetical capacity, in which he will still be judged to soar 
far above the height of Scott, whom my father used to 
call the chief only of ballad poets. His stories in verse 
are now almost forgotten in his prose narratives, but I 
think undeservedly. It is true, indeed, that it is only 
in his novels that he displays that power of humorous 
delineation of character which was one of his greatest 
gifts. 

Farewell, my valued friend ! May health attend you, 
but may you seek it here ! 

L. Aiken. 

To Miss Aikix. 

New York, May 30, 1833. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received your letter of Feb- 
ruary at Philadelphia, where I have spent a good part 
of the spring. As soon as the cold relented so that I 
could travel, I left Boston, to escape #vhat is more per- 
nicious to invalids than the winter's cold — I mean the 
east wind which prevails during the spring, and brings 
with it, I suppose, from the banks of Xewfoiinclland, a 
piercing quality peculiar to itself. Something like it, I 
have been told, is felt in Scotland ; but you never feel it 
in England. You would think, were you exposed to 
it, that the particles of the atmosphere were specially 
sharpened for the season. What particularly strikes one 
is, that whilst the wind seems to pierce beneath the skin 3 
and makes one shrink into the narrowest compass, nature 
is often singularly beautiful, the atmosphere never more 
brilliant, the clouds never more dazzling. I was once 
describing our east wind to a gentleman, who replied 
that according to my account it resembled "a beautiful 
shrew/' I dreaded the shreAvish disposition more than 

I 



170 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



I loved the beauty, and took refuge in Philadelphia, one 
of our most agreeable cities, which was founded, as you 
know, by Penn, and still retains something of a quakerish. 
quiet amidst great opulence. The spring was uncom- 
monly mild, and I gradually regained strength, so that 
I now consider myself in usual health. I have not, 
however, made trial of my strength, and am forbidden 
by my physicians to labour, and, on the whole, I am 
inclined to give myself the chance of longer rest. I thank 
you for your very, very kind invitation to England ; you 
have learned the tone to draw me there. I can resist any- 
thing more easily than the urgency of sincere friendship. 
If I could satisfy myself that by crossing the ocean I should 
enjoy more advantages for regaining health, I should not 
hesitate a moment. But I have little to encourage me. 
I have tried all means with no permanent effect, and 
must wait for a new frame, a higher life, to give me the 
joyous consciousness of unfettered vigour. My burden 
I expect to bear, and yet the word burden is not the true 
one. When I make no exertion, I am able to enjoy 
much, perhaps more than most ; and could I get rid of 
the feeling that a great work is to be done towards which 
I might contribute something, my lot would seem to be 
among the happiest. Excuse my egotism. Tour interest 
in my health draws me into the weakness of an invalid. 
We will let the subject drop. I rejoice to hear that the 
rod is less used in your schools. It encourages one to 
hope that "other venerable remains of the olden time" 
are to yield to the " rash spirit of Keform." It seems 
from your letter that you are beginning to learn that 
reform means revolution. I hope it will not be the less 
welcome for its new name. I must rejoice in it, for I 
am sure that it is part of a noble movement, though 
I confess, I rejoice with trembling. The tendency of 
things is to a thorough, substantial improvement, a real 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



171 



elevation of the mass of the people, and this supposes 
that the old distinctions are to give way. To raise the 
low is to bring down the high. All other revolutions 
are idle, nominal, compared with this, and this must go 
on, peacefully I hope, but at any rate surely, inevitably. 
You write about Ireland. Public opinion here is against 
your coercive measures. We say, be just before you are 
severe ; at least, let justice keep pace with severity. 
Eedress the wrongs as fast as you punish the crimes of 
that miserable country. I give you the general feeling ; 
but here, as in other cases, it is easier to blame than to 
point out a better course. Some good works I covet, but 
I envy no man the task of tranquillizing Ireland. Our 
civil war is blown over, and we had little reason perhaps 
to apprehend such an evil. I wish I could say the 
danger of disunion had ceased. But we have one cause 
of separation, which you can easily understand. Free 
states and slave-holding ones differ too much in social 
condition, feelings, modes of industry, and perhaps inte- 
rests, to hold together strongly. The South and Xorth 
(and these are our great distinctions now) do not love 
each other. Our Southern brethren, far from feeling the 
dishonourableness of their vocation as taskmasters to 
slaves, hold us at the Xorth in a degree of contempt. 
They set up for chivalry, &c, and regard us, who are 
descendants of the Puritans, as heirs to the vices of the 
Eoundheads. That they are altogether false in their 
judgment I dare not say. Tour keen eye might detect 
anions us some traces of the old Puritan. Oh that we 
could get rid of slavery ! Of all our miseries and curses 
and reproaches, this is the worst. Some favourable 
changes of opinion seem to be taking place. Perhaps 
you are to give us emancipation. Set up an African 
empire in the West Indies, and you will break the chain 
here. Our people are reading, with all the zest of spite, 

I 2 



172 



TO MISS A1KIN. 



the Travels of tlie German Prince in England. They 
think he balances our account with Hall, Trollope, and 
that band of worthies. I suspect our country is not the 
only one drilling to put you clo"vrn. England has made 
herself not a little odious by her haughtiness. She has 
been the Pharisee of Europe, given to " justify herself 
and despise others/' and must pay the penalty of this 
vice. One good will grow out of the contemptuous 
manner in which England has treated this country. It 
will give us a real, substantial independence of the 
mother country. Resentment is doing what a virtuous 
self-respect ought to have done. One of our great faults 
is that, with all our vanity and loud boasting, we have 
been, and still are, prone to a servile imitation of Europe, 
especially England ; and few things, I believe, have 
obstructed more the elevating tendency of our free insti- 
tutions. Xow the rude and abusive style in which your 
travellers have treated us is curing this folly. Captain 
Hall, especially, has done us good. The people here 
were weak enough to treat him as a great man, and his 
book, I think, will keep them from repeating the error. 
I grieve indeed that we are to learn independence through 
our bad passions, and for this, as well as other reasons, I 
am not very proud of my country ; but in the present 
low condition of the race, we must be willing that nations 
and individuals should make progress, even by methods 
we disapprove. I think that in my last letter I spoke of 
Bryant as more immersed in politics than he really is. 
I learn that he is true to his first love, literature. I can 
add but a line about Miss Martineau. I have no great 
faith in some of her doctrines, but I delight in her stories. 
The Garveloch Tales are particularly good. What a 
noble creature Ella is ! To give us in a fishing-woman 
an example of magnanimity and the most touching affec- 
tion, and still keep her in her sphere ; to make all the 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



173 



manifestations of this glorious virtue appropriate to her 
condition and consistent with our nature, — this seems 
to me to indicate a very high order of mind, and to place 
Miss Martineau among the first moral teachers as well 
as first writers of our time. Perhaps I may be partial. 
I feel so grateful to her for doing such justice to the 
poor and to human nature, that I am strongly tempted 
to raise her to the highest rank. I shall return in a few 
days to my home, where I hope soon to hear from you. 
Very sincerely and affectionately, your friend, 

We E. Changing. 



To Dk. Chaxxixg. 

AdelpM, June 13, 1833. 

My dear Friend, — Congratulate me ! Yesterday I cor- 
rected the last sheet of " King Charles." My long and 
arduous task is ended ; my time is now my own, and the 
first use I make of it is, as it ought to be, to return you 
my thanks for your excellent volume, so long unacknow- 
ledged, and to resume the thread of our correspondence. 
You would take for granted that some of your discourses 
would be less to my mind than others, and so it is ; but 
how can I sufficiently thank you for the profit and delight 
of those which give an echo to my deepest convictions, 
my loftiest feelings, — those which work out for me pro- 
blems of the highest interest, on which my mind has 
often tasked itself in vain ! The two sermons on Self- 
denial, and that on the Immortality of Man, are to me 
inestimable ; nor is there one in the volume in which I 
do not find much to admire, to agree with, and to profit 
by. I think I perceive in this volume, as compared with 
your former writings, traces of recent and profound study 
in the science of metaphysics. I have been exceedingly 



174 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



struck by the newness as well as the cogency of some of 
your reasonings, particularly those in page 23S. As 
usual, I feel how long it must be before I can make 
myself entire mistress of the bearings of writings which 
contain so much food for thought, which seem to me 
new at every fresh perusal ; and one of the pleasures of 
my leisure will be to go through them again, pencil in 
hand, marking my favourite passages. You are full of 
maxims ; I have often wished to collect them by them- 
selves as hints for meditation. 

As soon as my book is out, which will be, I suppose, 
in a week, I shall consign to Mr. Vaughan's care a copy 
for you. It is of no use telling you all my fears and mis- 
givings about it ; you will judge for yourself, and freely 
communicate to me your remarks. The times are un- 
doubtedly favourable for uttering the facts which I have 
been most anxious to put in a clear light ; and it is not 
nearly so much the fear of any criticism, as the sense of 
having after all done very imperfect justice to my subject 
— partly from the necessity of omitting a great number 
of matters which would have swelled the book incon- 
veniently—that now troubles me. I am going to dissi- 
pate for a week in London, and that holiday I expect to 
enjoy ; but domestic solitude and the habit of labour will 
soon be impelling me to seek a fresh pursuit, and my 
great care at present is to choose well and choose speedily. 
I certainly shall not go on to give the world a nearer view 
of the abominable court of Charles II., and this is all that 
I am certain of as yet. In other respects, " the world is 
all before me." I suppose that by the time this reaches 
you, Mr. Koscoe's Life will be on your table. I am just 
beginning to devour it ; to you it cannot have all the 
same sources of interest it has to me ; but I shall be 
much disappointed if you do not find it one of the most 
delightful of biographies and collections of letters. Per- 



TO DE. CHANNDTG. 



175 



haps you will find in it a proof of what I have failed to 
persuade you of, that in this country the spirit of aristo- 
cracy opposes no obstacle to the progress of real talent. 
Mr. Eoscoe was a splendid example of rising from the 
ranks, I think I have never mentioned to you James 
Montgomery, the poet ; but you probably know some at 
least of his poems, which would interest you from the 
fancy and the feeling which animate them, and from 
their deeply devotional spirit. He is a great master too, 
as I think, in the art of versification. I wish I could 
detail to you the particulars of his early life as he beauti- 
fully related them in letters to my father, whom he had 
not then seen. It is enough, however, to tell you here, 
that he was the son of a Moravian missionary, brought 
up in one of their seminaries, and that he had never seen 
an English verse, excepting their hymns, till he was 
about fourteen ; when one of the masters walking in the 
fields with a few of his pupils, made them seat them- 
selves on the grass, and drew from his pocket Blair's 
" Grave," which he read them. " I seemed," said Mont- 
gomery, " to have found a language for sentiments born 
with me, but born dumb." And from this time he be- 
came a writer of poetry. He quitted the Moravians for 
the Wesleyan Methodists ; has suffered at times from 
religious melancholy, only less, I believe, than Cowper ; 
but of late years his mincl seems to be tranquillized, in 
part perhaps by the active exertions in which he has 
engaged in behalf of missions, Bible societies, and other 
religious objects. He retired from his business of a 
printer some years ago, on a competence, and, what 
seems to me very remarkable, has erected himself into a 
critic. He has given lectures on Poetry at the Eoyal In- 
stitution, which were much admired, and lately he sent 
me a copy of a publication of which they form the larger 
and better part. I wish you could see it : there are 



176 



TO DR. CHASTNIXG. 



portions, especially some remarks on the themes of 
poetry and on its rises, which I know you would be 
pleased with. I am far from saying that I do not feel 
in the work the defective education of the writer in 
classical learning, and the prejudices rooted in his mind 
by the systematic fanaticism of the sect which brought 
him up ; but still it is the work of an original and very 
interesting character, and the purity and tenderness of 
his mind and heart everywhere shine through. This 
fragment of a letter has travelled with me to London, 
and I can now tell you of some of my amusements. I 
dined yesterday in the company of Mr. Malthus and 
Miss Martineau, who are great friends and allies. Per- 
haps you may, and perhaps you may not, have taken 
the trouble to read the pro and con articles respecting 
Miss M. in the " Quarterly " and " Edinburgh " Eeviews, 
of which the first is full of malice, and the second, I 
think, very empty of sound critical matter. She pursues 
her course steadily, and I hear much praise of her new 
tale on the Poor Laws, which I have not yet read ; I 
fear, however, that it is the character of her mind to 
adopt extreme opinions on most subjects, and without 
much examination. She has now had a full season of 
London lionizing, and it is no small praise to say that, 
as far as we can judge, it has done her nothing but good. 
She loves her neighbours the better for their good 
opinion of her, and I believe thinks the more humbly 
of herself for what she has seen of other persons of 
talent and merit. 

My bookseller tells me that the editor of the " Edin- 
burgh Eeview " proposes now to give an article on my 
six volumes of Memoirs together. This annoys me not 
a little, and I will beg it off if I can. I have prospered 
pretty well under the silence of the critics, and it pleased 
me to have no thanks to give them. Also, I suspect I 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



177 



should fall into the hands of the same dull and tasteless 
critic, or rather gossip, who reviewed Miss Martineau ; 
in whose prolix articles I have often stuck fast, and from 
whose remarks I should expect little benefit. It is 
likewise to be considered, that if praised in the " Edin- 
burgh," I should certainly be abused in the " Quarterly." 

Do you mark the course which our absurd Conserva- 
tives are taking ? Nothing could be more fortunate for 
ministers or more dangerous to themselves than the vote 
which they carried in the House of Lords. I hear the 
Duke of Wellington is so violent that he would gladly 
push the difference between the two Houses even to civil 
war. What madness ! Does he not perceive it would 
be the peers on one side and the nation on the other ? 
And as for the bishops — Xo ; words cannot do justice to 
their infatuation. Have you made this reflection on our 
triple legislature — that the King can free himself from 
an intractable House of Commons by a dissolution, that 
a House of Commons can compel a King to change his 
counsels by refusing the supplies, but that neither King 
nor Commons, nor both united, possess any regular or 
obvious means of controlling the Lords ; consequently, 
that if they oppose the general will with obstinacy, they 
expose themselves to imminent danger of seeing their 
privileges curtailed or perhaps abolished. The bishops'' 
votes especially hang by a thread. 

How I long to know whether you are proposing to 
cross the sea to us ! I cannot help thinking it won:. : 
answer to you in every way. It is really a new world 
since you saw England. The progress in many ways 
has been of unexampled rapidity. You would find 
London embellished beyond expression. I ramble 
amongst the new buildings with unceasing admiration, 
striving in vain to recal the old state of some of the 
best known streets. We may now boast in the British 

i 3 



178 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



Museum of a collection to which the world has nothing 
comparable, and the suite of rooms lately added is worthy 
of its destination. What adds a moral interest to this 
assemblage of the treasures of nature and art is the splen- 
did testimony it affords to the public spirit of English- 
men. The gifts of individuals to their country preserved 
here are almost of inestimable value, even in a commer- 
cial view. In France, on the contrary, their museums 
have been entirely furnished by the purchases or the 
plunder of the government. iNot even ostentation there 
moves private persons to make presents to the public. 
There is another pleasing circumstance. A few years 
since, access to the Museum was so difficult that it was 
scarcely visited by twenty persons in a day; now, in 
compliance with the spirit of the age, it is thrown open 
to all, and Brougham's " Penny Magazine " has so fami- 
liarized all readers with the collection, that you see the 
rooms thronged by thousands, many from the humblest 
walks of life. I observed common soldiers and " smirched 
artizans," all quiet, orderly, attentive, and apparently sur- 
veying the objects with intelligent curiosity. Depend 
upon it, there never was a time in which true civilization 
was making such strides amongst us. You said very 
justly some time ago, that we were only in the beginning 
of a revolution ; the spirit of Eeform has gone forth, con- 
quering and to conquer; every day it extends its way 
into new provinces ; but it is, it will continue to be, a 
peaceful sway, a bloodless conquest. The strongholds of 
abuse yield, one after another, upon summons. Wel- 
lington himself will not be able to bring his " order " 
into conflict with the majesty of the people. I never 
looked with so much complacency on the state of my 
country. I believe her destined to a progress in all that 
constitutes true glory, which we of this age can but 
dimly figure to ourselves in the blue distance. The bulk 



TO MISS AIKIN". 



179 



of our people are at length well cured of the long and 
obstinate delusion respecting the wisdom of our ancestors, 
which so powerfully served the purposes of the interested 
opposers of improvement. Novelties are now tried upon 
their merits ; perhaps even there is some partiality in 
their favour. Pray, pray come and judge of us with 
your own eyes ! 

Believe me, ever yours most truly, 

L. AlKIN. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August 30, 1833. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I was truly gratified by receiv- 
ing your letter of June, in which you ask me to congra- 
tulate you on the completion of your Charles. I do 
rejoice with you, for I believe you have finished one 
good work to begin another with new interest and new 
power of usefulness. My expectations from your History 
are not at all diminished by your dissatisfaction with it. 
When an author is satisfied with his book, nobody else 
will be. We have an artist among us who is said to find 
nothing in his paintings to correct, and the public find 
as little to admire. I can comprehend the jealousy of 
authors, but not their vanity. You see I expect the 
more from you for your humility. I have perhaps some 
interest in making this a test of merit, for it seems to me 
that the more I write, the less I am disposed to boast of 
my labours. I thank you for the kind things you have 
said of my late volume. When I began to print it, I 
expected to be able to make it more worthy of public 
attention ; but I was obliged to give the discourses very 
much as they were preached, and not one of them had 
been written with care. I had thought much of the sub- 



180 



TO MISS AIKEST. 



jects ; but the thoughts were generally thrown on the 
paper very rapidly. For the last year and a half I have 
done nothing to be named, and, though I am gradually 
rising in strength, I dare not hope that I can very soon 
return to labour. I have on my table two masses of 
materials which I have been accumulating for some 
time, but the intervals between writing are so long, that 
when I return to my task I forget where I stopped. 
Still my heart does not fail me. I live in hope of doing 
something before I die ; ana if this happiness be denied 
me, I shall find comfort in seeing what others do for 
mankind, and shall rejoice that this brief life is not the 
whole period of useful exertion. 

I am reading Mr. Eoscoe's Life with great pleasure. I 
am sorry that it was not more condensed, because I wish 
it extensively read, and I fear some may be discouraged 
by the size. Mr. E.'s admirable character interests me 
not only for its own sake, but as one of " the signs of our 
times." Do you think in any former age such a cha- 
racter could haA^e been developed, that such a philan- 
thropy, so comprehensive, so hopeful, espousing so many 
human interests, pursuing at once the advancement of 
civil and religious liberty, the diffusion of knowledge, the 
emancipation of the slave, the reformation of criminal 
law, the suppression of every abuse and form of tyranny, 
could have found excitement and a sphere of action ? 
He belongs to a new 7 era. In reading his life, I feel that 
the old want of faith in human nature is giving way, that 
the bounds of the old and narrow patriotism are broken 
down, that more is felt and more to be done for mankind 
than was dreamed of even a few years ago. I take plea- 
sure in Mr. E.'s celebrity, for he did not command, compel 
i: by singular intellectual superiority. His fidelity to the 
principles of justice and Christian love availed him more 
than genius. I almost envy him the happiness of his last 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



181 



years, when he witnessed the triumph of the great prin- 
ciples for which he had toiled, over obstacles which at 
first seemed insuperable. He did not live long enough 
to witness one triumph, which makes me envy your 
country as much as it puts me to shame for my own : I 
refer to the late Parliamentary resolution for the abolition 
of Slavery. England is winning another immortal crown, 
whilst America, free America, is sinking under the 
infinite disgrace of holding millions of human beings in 
bondage. I almost wish I were one of you when I bring 
this contrast to my mind. Glorious England ! Yes, 
glorious in spite of the degradation of her lower classes, 
and of the corruption of the higher ! I care nothing for 
your commerce and military greatness. That I do not 
envy you ; and I smile with something like derision 
when I hear your writers pitying our new country for 
wanting the historical associations which haunt every 
spot of your land. What I mourn is, that we are suffer- 
ing you to outstrip us in the spirit of humanity, and in 
efforts for human freedom and happiness. We have, it 
is true, a Colonization Society, which I hope is to do 
good in Africa ; but if it does not make the condition of 
the black population which remain with us more sad and 
hopeless, I shall rejoice. I have my fears that the first 
effects of emancipation in your colonies may discredit 
the cause here. With the present feelings of the masters, 
I fear that relations of hostility will take place between 
them and their former slaves, which may spread much 
misery. Still, emancipation is right. The chains would 
never have been broken had you waited for masters to 
give freedom with a good grace. Emancipation so near 
us must do good, sooner or later, to this country. I hope, 
then, though I wish my hopes rested more on the moral 
principles of my country. 

I have read no very important book from your country 



182 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



of late. Sismondi sent me an interesting one — " The 
Prisons of Silvio Pellico." Have you read it ? It is a 
beautiful manifestation of the power of high principles 
and of the benevolent affections. He relates his suffer- 
ings and wrongs with a mild, forgiving spirit, which calls 
forth, perhaps, deeper indignation against arbitrary go- 
vernments than a vehement eloquence would have clone. 
How I burned to pluck from the oppressor his abused 
power ! 

I have been much interested, too, in Mrs. Jameson's 
" Characteristics of Women/' a w r ork full of beauty, 
grace and feeling. I have not dared to recommend it, 
for the moral lies too deep for most readers. Most 
readers would gather from it that woman has no higher 
vocation than to love ; that absorption in this passion, at 
the expense and sacrifice of every other sentiment and 
every duty, is innocent ; and that she whose hope is 
blasted in this has nothing to live for, perhaps nothing 
to do but to die, like Juliet, by her own hand. I do not 
nlean that these lessons are taught, but that such impres- 
sion would be received by not a few readers from several 
parts. Mrs. J. discovers in her introduction so just an 
appreciation of woman, that I wonder a loftier, healthier 
tone does not decidedly characterize her book. Perhaps 
I am hypercritical, for in some of her characters she pays 
just homage to virtue and to the high destiny of her 
sex ; and I feel almost ungrateful in finding fault with a 
lady who has delighted me so much by her fine percep- 
tion of character, her richness of illustration, and felicities 
of style. I rejoice in your good hopes of your country. 

Have you received a letter I sent you about the end 
of spring or the beginning of summer ? 

I remain, your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



183 



To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, October 23, 1333. 

My dear Friend. — Just as I had embarked in one of 
my pamphlet-letters to you, comes yours of August 30th ; 
and it makes me begin afresh, that I may first notice its 
contents. I am glad you have been reading the Life of 
Eoscoe, and feeling so much with me respecting it ; — 
how much, you may learn if you please from the forth- 
coming number of the " Edinburgh Review," where I 
obtained leave to be the critic. But this pray keep 
quite to yourself : I never before wrote an article for any 
review but the " Annual/' and should be very sorry to be 
known in this, as it might cause me to be suspected of 
what I never wrote. 

You ask if I received a letter from you last spring or 
summer. I not only received one of May 30th, but 
wrote an answer, which I think you ought to have re- 
ceived before the one to which your last is a reply: I 
sent it as usual through Dr. Boott, and fear it may have 
been lost, perhaps delayed only. Xo, on recollection, I 
believe that letter of mine accompanied my book, which 
I hope you have by this time. Since that I have had your 
line by Dr. Tuckerman. I was in Kent when he called 
here, and therefore only saw him last week ; but I am 
exceedingly struck and delighted with him. and impatient 
to hear him speak more of his noble exertions and designs. 
On Thursday next I hope he and Mr. Phillips will meet 
over my breakfast-table my friend Mr. Le Breton and 
dear Joanna Baillie. You will be with us in spirit, for 
many associations will bring you to the minds of all of 
us. When I have the privilege to be present at a meet- 
ing like this, of the gifted and the excellent from the far 
ends of the earth, it seems to me a foretaste of the happi- 



184 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



ness reserved for the world of spirits. Alas for one who 
gave me this feeling beyond all others — the admirable 
Eammohun Eoy ! He has been frustrated of one of his 
cherished hopes, that of seeing you face to face, either in 
this or the other hemisphere — but you were no strangers 
to each other. Scarcely any description can do justice 
to his admirable qualities, and the charms of his society, 
his extended knowledge, his comprehension of mind, his 
universal philanthropy, his tender humanity, his genuine 
dignity mixed with perfect courtesy, and the most touch- 
ing humility. His memory I shall cherish with affec- 
tionate reverence on many accounts ; but the character 
in which I best love to contemplate him is that of the 
friend and champion of woman. It is impossible to 
forget his righteous zeal against polygamy, his warm 
approval of the freedom allowed to women in Europe, 
his joy and pious gratitude for the abolition of suttee. 
Considering the prejudices of birth and education with 
which he had to contend, his constant advocacy of the 
rights and interests of the weaker sex seems to me the 
very strongest proof of his moral and intellectual great- 
ness. 

You are very kind in what you say of your expecta- 
tions from my late work and my future exertions in 
literature, and this encourages me to talk to you a little 
of myself and my affairs. I am very well satisfied with 
what is said of my "Charles." All whose opinions I 
have heard seem to think I have been diligent and im- 
partial, and they praise my style for its clearness and 
simplicity, my remarks for justness, and particularly for 
their moral tone. This is the kind of commendation 
which I most desired, and if I could find out in what 
walk of literature I should be most likely to earn more 
of it, that walk would be my choice. But I am still quite 
undetermined on this head. In fact, I have had as yet 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG, 



185 



little leisure for reflecting upon it, as I can show. Early 
in August, having printed my second edition and seen 
my niece married, I set out for Sandgate, a very agree- 
able watering-place near Dover, where I should have 
enjoyed my leisure much had I found my strength equal 
to the fatigue of the little journey, and of the walking 
and riding necessary to explore the country. But 1 came 
back ill, and had scarcely done nursing myself when T 
was called upon to assist my poor niece in nursing her 
young bridegroom, who was three weeks confined in my 
house with a fever. I had the satisfaction, however, of 
sending him home well recovered, and next week I am 
myself proceeding for London, to take up my abode for 
three months with my brother Charles and his family. 
I go prepared to see and hear all I can, and thence to 
judge how I may best and most acceptably employ my 
pen. I sometimes think that a volume of essays might 
be useful, addressed to my own sex, and chiefly intended 
to point out the particular vocation of women in these 
times of change and improvement. I am of opinion that 
few of them have yet raised their minds to the " height 
of this great argument/' and that there is no small danger 
of their becoming despicable in the eyes of high-souled 
men by an anti-popular spirit, and a determined prefer- 
ence of trifles and triflers to everything truly great and 
elevated. I am far from wishing to play the censor, or 
to lay down the law ; a few suggestions modestly thrown 
out and temperately discussed would suffice for what I 
mean. Bulwer Lytton, in his " England and the Enolish," 
a book which is making some noise here, falls violently 
upon the Englishwomen for their spirit of aristocracy, 
which, indeed, he considers as the prevailing spirit of the 
whole people ; and I know you have the same idea, I 
want to go to the bottom of this matter, to consider what 
is, strictly speaking, a spirit of aristocracy — its causes, 



186 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



effects, remedies. One thing is plain, that in any country 
where, as in the old monarchies of our continent, noble 
birth should be the only passport to power, distinction 
and command, the spirit of aristocracy could never be 
that of the nation, but only of the privileged class which 
profits by it. If, therefore, it pervades all classes in 
England, it must be because no one is excluded by birth 
from the hope of becoming in some mode or other a 
member of that large and loosely-defined upper class 
which is supposed to comprehend all the meritorious and 
all the fortunate. Aristocracy in old France, in Venice, 
and in England, at the present day, are three things so 
distinct, that they ought not to bear the same name. 
Bulwer reproaches us ladies at our horror at associating 
with tradesmen, a horror which causes all young men 
who can possibly find the means to crowd into the pro- 
fessions, which are greatly overstocked. To this, perhaps, 
the ladies might be content to answer, that tradesmen, 
shopkeepers that is, are equally excluded from fashion- 
able clubs and other resorts of gentlemen, that in truth 
their education and manners seldom entitle them to 
admission into either refined or literary society, and that 
individuals who deserve to be made exceptions to the 
rule usually are so. If ladies were equally guiltless of 
his other charges against them — that of flattering the 
follies and vices of the high-born and wealthy young 
men — it would be well. But the disgraceful practice of 
fortune-hunting, much more prevalent now among women 
than it ever was amongst men, renders this kind of 
vicious assentation very frequent, especially in the high- 
est circles, and it deserves to be severely rebuked. There 
is great encouragement at present for all attempts at 
raising the moral tone amongst us. It fills me with joy 
and gratitude to contemplate the many reforms now pro- 
ceeding with a reference to this end. The abomination 



TO DR. CHANlsIXG. 



187 



of slavery put away from our people ; poor factory chil- 
dren taken under the protection of humane laws ; Church 
abuses effectually checked, and tithe compounded for ; 
the criminal law amended ; the poor-laws revised ; elec- 
tion bribery severely repressed, and the boundless cor- 
ruption and jobbing of close corporations cut up by the 
roots. Carry all these great measures from their causes 
into their evident and unavoidable results, and say if 
ever there was in the history of mankind a revolution 
so morally great and glorious ! But I need not boast — 
you generously rejoice and triumph with us, and I on 
my part sincerely hope that your country will not long 
suffer us to put her to shame with the word Slavery. All 
fears for the working of emancipation in the colonies 
seem to have died away. I value commercial greatness 
as little, on the whole, as you can do, but yet I do rejoice 
in the present prosperity of our manufactories, because 
the full employment of the poor in most parts of the 
country will signally facilitate the meditated retrench- 
ments of the relief granted at present by parishes to 
those who ought to live on the wages of their labour. 
To dispawperize the working classes must be the first step 
towards raising them from their degradation. After that, 
there will be a fair field for the efforts of Dr. Tuckerman 
and his missionaries ; at present they would have to 
struggle against a system of premiums for improvidence 
and seK-indulgence, such as no other nation ever had 
the absurdity to institute. Miss Martineau is doing 
good service in crying it down. 

It rejoices me to find you so full of cheering hopes 
respecting your own health and capacity for further use- 
fulness. In these cases we can very often when or 
because we feel strongly the wish and the hope, and I 
reckon upon seeing the two heaps of materials converted 
within a reasonable time into so many volumes. You 



188 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



have great influence here, and I cannot help wishing 
that you would take some occasion to explain to us the 
advantages of the perfect equality in which all religious 
sects are placed amongst you. With us, people are just 
beginning to perceive the injustice of assessing Dissent- 
ers to the Church-rates ; this once admitted, long con- 
sequences may be deduced. I think our universities 
cannot long continue to require from laymen subscrip- 
tion to the Church Articles, since the sacramental test 
is in all cases abolished, and even Jews are now admis- 
sible to every civil office. Mrs. Jameson's book I have 
not seen, and scarcely heard of. "Silvio Pellico" has 
been much read and praised, but I have not yet found 
time to read it. I think you would be interested in the 
Life of that great preacher Eobert Hall. There is some- 
thing affecting in the evident struggle which his powerful 
mind and benevolent heart maintained for many years 
against the horrors and absurdities of the Calvinistic 
faith in which he had been educated, and into which 
he finally almost relapsed. He was also an illustrious 
example of the mind rising superior to dreadful bodily 
sufferings. 

An intelligent friend of mine, lately from Paris, said 
to me of the Parisians, " They are the most irreligious 
people of the world, but yet they have five or six new 
religions which they have invented/' She also said, 
" Morals are so very bad there, that I think they can 
grow no worse, or rather, that they are beginning to 
mend." She mentioned as a particular source of corrup- 
tion the manner in which young girls of the higher class 
are married. A father says to his daughter, " You are 
to be married to-morrow." He names the gentleman, 
and it is one whom she has never seen. Yet she always 
submits without resistance or repugnance, regarding 
matrimony, like presentation at court, simply as the cus- 



TO DE. CHAINING. 



189 



tomary and indispensable preliminary to coming out in 
the world and being somebody. Young girls are never 
seen in company except at balls. The conversation in 
mixed society is unfit for them to listen to. Single 
women have there no existence. A great proportion of 
the marriages are brought about by paid brokers. Can 
you picture to yourself any state of things so utterly 
degrading to woman ? It is remarkable that the French 
have no writers of any note at present, except in the 
sciences. 

I have kept my letter open till I could tell you of the 
visit of your two friends. It was to me a most agree- 
able one. I was much pleased with the intelligence of 
Mr. Phillips, and the excellent information which he 
gave us in answer to our many questions respecting your 
country. Much of our conversation related to the state 
of religion and the arrangements for the conduct of reli- 
gious worship amongst you, and I told them both that 
Americans could do nothing so useful to us as to publish 
these particulars in refutation of the prevailing notion 
here that religion could not be supported without an 
Establishment. Dr. Tuckerman is immersed in the study 
of our poor-laws; very few of us, I suspect, know so 
much about them. I am struck with his eloquence, and 
should like much to witness its effects on his poor 
hearers. Such self-devotion must command admiration 
and reverence from the most depraved. I held up to 
him your letter in triumph. " Let me look at his hand/' 
he cried, and he took it and kissed it repeatedly. What 
a perfect friendship is yours ! Long may you live to 
enjoy it ! Nay, death will not end it ! 

Ever yours with true regard, 

L Aiken. 



190 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, December 28, 1833. 

My dear Miss Aikin,-- -I am sorry to begin a letter 
with self-reproach, but I do blame myself for having 
delayed so long to write to you, and in such cases I find 
some relief to my conscience in acknowledging frankly 
my deficiency. Your letter of October 23rd, which I 
received last evening, was most welcome, and I cannot 
rest until I express my obligations for it, and for your 
late work, for which I heartily thank you. It has given 
me great pleasure. It seems to me a decided improve- 
ment on your preceding works. The style is more 
various, vigorous, free, and the narrative seems to me 
more skilfully woven. As to its impartiality, about 
which I have been most solicitous, I wish I were a 
better judge, but my knowledge of your history is not 
profound enough to make my opinion of much worth. 
I think, however, that you have been just to Charles, 
and have brought out his character strongly, though I 
am inclined to show him more mercy, or to make more 
allowance for the untoward influences under which he 
was brought up. It was next to impossible that he 
should comprehend the new ideas of his age. Indeed, 
what can a king see in the spirit of liberty, especially on 
its first waking from long slumber, but a fearful lawless 
power threatening ruin to the most revered establish- 
ments ? As to Charles's great vice — deceit — I suppose 
it was sanctified in his own view by one of the ends for 
which he thought he was using it ; I mean the Church. 
When the conscience exaggerates one duty, it is very 
apt to let others slip, and Charles seems to have imagined 
that he could expiate all his wrong doings by his faith- 
fulness to the hierarchy. He is not the first man who 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



191 



has hoped to balance his bad faith in human concerns by 
his sound faith in religious ones. It is an instructive 
fact, that his fraud was not a whit the less ruinous to 
him on account of its union with his conscientiousness. 
Your History has given me a stronger impression than I 
had before of his ability and force of mind. I feel, too, 
more than I did that his wife was his evil genius. She 
undoubtedly confirmed him in the dangerous maxim 
that no faith was to be kept with heretics, and made 
his propensity to intrigue a desperate disease. I was 
sorry you could not let us more into the character of the 
Puritans as a sect, and of their leaders. Let me ask if 
you have not gathered materials in your historical re- 
searches for a volume of interesting essays ? You have 
taken, I doubt not, some new views of public characters 
and great events, and of the progress of society, and I 
hope they will not be lost. Do think of this suggestion. 
I could fill my letter with remarks on your book. I have 
expressed my pleasure on the style and execution. 
JSTow and then, however, I met a word not in sufficient 
use, perhaps not to be found in the dictionary. Did I 
not see the word " complicity " ? The spirit of your 
work is a noble one. You have kept throughout your 
loyalty to the great principles of freedom and virtue. 
You disturbed a little my opinions and feelings about 
Falkland. I do not love that such an image should be 
dimmed; but let truth pre'vail. You have given me 
another subject to think and write about, Eammohun 
Eoy. I feel his loss deeply. I cannot name a stranger 
whom I so wished to see. Do treasure up your recol- 
lections of him, and give them to me and the public. I 
lived in hope that he was to visit this country, and now 
I can only know him by following him into the common 
country of all pure and noble spirits. May we all meet 
there ! It seems you wish to make woman more worthy 



192 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



of the homage which the Eajah paid her. I like your 
project much, and I should think such essays as you 
propose would excite attention. The work, however, is 
a delicate one. You must make women patriots without 
turning them into partizans, increase their force without 
taking from their loveliness, and cultivate the reason 
without encroaching on the affections. It is an im- 
portant part of woman's vocation to give refinement, 
purity, gentleness and grace, to social intercourse ; to 
wear off our rough edges ; to rescue us from absorption 
in grosser interests by awakening in us some taste for 
beauty. It is a greater work to lay the foundation of 
the future patriot and Christian ; to infuse into the child, 
whether boy or girl, the spirit of the philanthropist, hero, 
martyr ; to give just and large views of life, and of the 
true means of promoting human happiness. There is no 
greater work on earth, and none requiring a more gene- 
rous culture of all the powers. If you can turn your sex 
to the high purposes of their being and of their peculiar 
relations and endowments as women, what a benefactor 
you will be ! You speak of Bulwer's remarks on English- 
women and their aristocratic tendencies. I doubt not 
they are true in the main. I have read only the first 
volume of his work as yet — a remarkable book, especially 
considering the haste in which it seems to have been 
thrown off. I felt that a man who could "write so good 
a book ought to have written a better. He is generally 
superficial, and yet looks so often beneath the surface, 
thai one wishes he had been more just to himself and 
his subject. His notions of religion are very crude. 
With all his egotism, he writes like a true friend of the 
people, of the mass of men. Is he not worthy this 
highest praise ? I delight in your good account of your 
own country. I am not, however, as sanguine as you 
are as to the safe working of the late scheme for emanci- 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



193 



pation in the West Indies. Would the master become 
the friend of the slaves and heartily co-operate with 
Government, he could make their transition to freedom 
easy, safe, and mutually beneficial ; but he seems dis- 
posed to throw obstructions in the way, and the hostility 
which may consequently spring up between the two 
races may be ruinous to both. Perhaps you do not com- 
prehend how hard it is for the master to meet as a free- 
man, and in some respects as an equal, the man whom he 
has commanded and treated as a brute. It is as great a 
revolution as would be the abolition of castes in India, 
I suspect the love of power is more wounded than the 
passion for gain. We here have the deepest interest in 
the success of the plan. Let emancipation succeed in 
the West Indies, and slavery must fall in our Southern 
States. Let it fail, and our prospects, which are dark 
enough, will be next to hopeless. My mind is painfully 
alive on this subject. I want to write, to act ; but I 
must work alone, for I do not agree with our aboli- 
tionists, and I have not health, even if I had ability, for 
a single warfare. Our union and institutions are threat- 
ened by slavery, and we can look up to Heaven with no 
hope whilst this national guilt, the greatest a people 
can contract, is not only perpetrated, but more and more 
accumulated. — I have been lately looking at a biography 
of Bentham, and his general principles of legislation, by 
Dumont. The book is from Neale, one of our country- 
men, who was secretary to Bentham. The effect of the 
whole is not to raise Bentham in my estimation as a 
philosopher, however great may have been his sagacity 
in detecting abuses in the present system, I mean to 
look at his larger work on morals and legislation, though, 
if I may judge from this specimen, he knows little of 
man's moral nature. Xeale pronounces him an atheist. 
I am glad you have seen my friends, Messrs. Phillips 

K 



194 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



and Tuckerman. The latter gave you a somewhat cha- 
racteristic proof of his friendship for rue. I want to 
advise him to be more on his good behaviour, for some- 
times strangers, seeing his ardour, distrust his judgment, 
which is sound. He has a noble spirit. I miss him 
and Mr. P. much, but I hope to enjoy them more for 
absence. 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Channing. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, February 2, 1834. 

My dear Friend, — On my return yesterday to my own 
house, after a sojourn of three months at my brother 
Charles's in London, I found your kind letter just arrived 
to welcome me, and I will not resist the impulse to make 
an immediate return to it. You gratify me much by 
what you say of my book ; I perceive, however, that you 
think I a little want indulgence to Charles. This makes 
me regret that I forbore to sum up his character. I 
shrunk from the task as a difficult, and in some sense a 
dangerous one ; for I should have made for him such 
allowances on account of education and the influences 
generally to which his situation exposed him, that the 
almost unavoidable inference would have been, that all 
kings must be, more or less, the enemies of liberty, of 
public virtue, of the happiness and progress of mankind. 
I have come as near this inference as I well could, by 
showing that Charles was absolutely suckled in falsehood 
and dissimulation, and that as prince he thought himself 
as much above the laws of social morality as those of 
the land ; but I believe I ought somewhere to have dis- 
tinctly stated, that in his most unprincipled acts he was 



TO DE. CHAXSIXG. 



195 



probably never self-condemned, except in the ease of 
StraflFord. I plead guilty to complicity. I knew that 
this French word was scarcely naturalized, but it had 
been used: I had a vague idea that my father thought 
well of it ; and knowing no English word of the same 
meaning. I ventured. May one not now and th:n do 
these things with good effect ? I am not conscious of 
any other offences in this way. but it is likely enough 
that I may unconsciously have picked up odd words 
from my old authorities. Certainly, in the course of my 
labours, collateral subjects of remark did now and then 
occur to me ; but I fear I have let them slip away. I 
do, however, feel some temptation to venture into the 
essay line, when, perhaps, thoughts might recur on the 
morals of history. At present, however, I am absolutely, 
like poor Burns, "unfitted with an aim." One friend 
suggests to me Memoirs of Caroline, queen of George EL; 
another would have me go on to Cromwell ; another 
would send me back to Edward III., as a subject out 
of harms way, involving neither theology nor politics. 
" The literary class,'' said the very sensible advocate of 
the last scheme, "are almost all for Church and State, 
and your last subject is one which they do not like. 
They would not have much inquiry into King Charles/*' 
This remark might lead me wide into a dissertation upon 
our present state of political and religions feeling : but 
before I enter such a field. I think it prudent to answer 
some passages of your letter. 

I wonder not at your deep feelings on the subject of 
Slavery. It is worthy of you so to feel, and to devote 
your powerful pen and all the energies you can command 
to that great theme. I am quite incompetent to pro- 
nounce any opinion of my own on the state of our 
islands, but that excellent old abolitionist, TTilliam Smith, 
seems to me highly satisfied with the working of the 

K 2 



196 



TO DR. CHAINING, 



new system hitherto, and Dr. Lushington also. It has 
been said that the planters begin to judge it conducive to 
their own interests — a grand security for their exertions 
to make it answer. It seems that the protection of the 
black population will be secured, so far as law can secure 
it, by depending on a reformed magistracy, which, in 
other respects, is likely to be welcome to the planters. 
But I know not the particulars. 

Excellent Eammohun Roy! I wish I could obtain 
more particulars of him to offer to you ; but, like all re- 
markable foreigners in this, and I suppose in other coun- 
tries, he was beset by the enthusiastic, the ignorant, the 
impertinent, and often the malignant ; in his case poli- 
tical and theological passions conspired, and he was 
misrepresented on all hands. That good man Dr. Car- 
penter has published an account of him, and I know of 
no better. It is now known that the title of Rajah, 
which some suspected him of unwarrantably assuming, 
was conferred on him regularly by the Great Mogul, or 
King of Delhi, as he is now called, in the character of 
his ambassador. He was able in negotiation, and ob- 
tained for his master the large sums which he claimed 
of our Government. In his demeanour there was all 
the dignity and gracefulness of high caste, tempered with 
not only courtesy and benignity, but with a kind of 
humility only to be accounted for, as Dr. Boott acutely 
observed, by recollecting that he belonged to a conquered 
people, and had been compelled in India to submit to 
social inferiority. It was impossible, however, to charge 
him with servility. He sometimes evaded indiscreet 
questions, but the information which he gave voluntarily 
was so precise and satisfactory that it was impossible to 
question its perfect truth. His knowledge of languages 
was prodigious, and when he spoke of the light cast by 
an acquaintance with Oriental literature and manners 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



197 



on the sense of Scripture, or when he explained the laws 
and customs of his country, with the modifications which 
they had sustained from its Mussulman conquerors, you 
perceived that he w T as able to draw from all that he 
had learned and seen the inferences of a clear, sagacious 
mind. But perhaps his greatest charm was the atmo- 
sphere of moral purity in which he seemed to breathe. 
To women this w^as peculiarly striking ; he paid them a 
homage reverential as that of chivalry, without its exag- 
geration. Absolutely new to their society, as he must 
have been, an innate sense of propriety revealed to him 
always the right thing to say and do. Persecution, 
calumny, injustice, public and private, only strengthened 
him to endure in a good cause, without either saddening 
or embittering his spirit. Benignity was the leading 
characteristic of his countenance and his expressions, 
his love of liberty was fervent, and nothing which con- 
cerned the welfare of his brethren of mankind was indif- 
ferent to him. May we indeed meet that pure and noble 
spirit where only such are admitted ! 

Bent-ham I did not know, and I have never heard 
anything respecting his religious opinions. There is no 
hint of atheism in his theological works, nearly all of 
which I have read ; these are full of logical and critical 
acuteness. His dissection of the "Church. Catechism " 
in his " Church -of- Englandism" would amuse you, as 
well as his sarcasms on " My Lord the Bishops," whose 
" very footmen are clothed in purple." Mr. Whishaw, I 
think, characterized him very happily when he called 
him " a schoolman born some ages too late." He lived 
latterly in a narrow circle of worshippers, reading nothing 
and writing incessantly ; and probably did not sym- 
pathize extensively enough with other men to under- 
stand human nature profoundly. Consequently he was 
rather fitted to supply legislators with principles and 



198 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



suggestions, than to legislate himself. Brougham has 
very handsomely acknowledged his obligations to him 
for the idea of many of his reforms, particularly, I think, 
his legal ones. Eomilly, a man of great piety, lived in 
strict friendship with him. Xeale seems to be a slight 
and rather paltry person, very little qualified to measure 
the mind of Bentham, and probably only knew him in 
extreme old age. On such authority it would be unwar- 
rantable to impute to an innocent and certainly a bene- 
volent and public-spirited man, one of the ablest thinkers 
and the most skilful logician of his age, the brutish ab- 
surdity of atheism — a word, as you well know, used by 
ignorant or prejudiced people often without any definite 
meaning. The masterly lectures on Jurisprudence pub- 
lished by my friend Mr. Austin, a very zealous promul- 
gator of the utilitarian system founded by Bentham, are 
firmly based on theism, though they make no reference 
to Christianity, with which, however, their subject had 
no concern. I have just been assured, on w 7 hat I think 
pretty good authority, that neither is Godwin an atheist. 

During my stay in London, it was my great object to 
learn what our world is doing and thinking — and this is 
what I make out. Literature is low indeed — swamped, 
as our phrase is, by the trad-makers, with the Useful 
Knowledge Society at their head. Bulwer has protested 
with good reason against the prevalent practice of anony- 
mous writing. "We shall at this rate soon have no such 
character as an author amongst us : the public will 
account it as idle to inquire who wrote an essay, or even 
a book, as who set up the types — and one artificer will 
become as much a mere labourer for wages as the other. 
Put that this state of things cannot well become per- 
manent in a civilized country, it would almost break 
one's heart. In the meantime, the nullity of literature 
leaves all the thinkers and all the talkers at leisure for 



TO DE. CHAKNTtfG. 



15* 



a few great practical subjects which, must become the 
business of Parliament in the coming session. These 
are Church reform, Poor-law reform and general Educa- 
tion. On the first, some things are decided, as far as 
ministers are concerned. They will bring forward a com- 
mutation of tithe, and probably some new regulations 
against pluralities and non-residence. They will propose 
to grant the Dissenters redress of their grievances in 
respect of marriages, burials and birth-registries, and may 
perhaps be willing to exempt them from Church-rates. 
But here is the danger : The orthodox, that is, the CaL- 
vinistic Dissenters, or Independents and Baptists, em- 
boldened by their great and growing numbers, and by 
what they view as the spirit of the times, have plainly 
declared that they regard the whole connection of a 
favoured sect with the State as an abuse and an injus- 
tice, and that they will never be satisfied till it is 
totally dissolved. This decision, made in defiance of the 
prudential remonstrances of the calmer and better-in- 
formed Unitarians, is beginning, as it seems, to produce 
a strong reaction in favour of the Church; to which, 
with a small exception for Catholics, and another for 
Unitarians, the whole of the two Houses of Parliament 
and of the nation, down almost to the shopkeepers and 
mechanics, is at least nominally attached; and which 
carries with it also most of the agricultural class, and a 
good portion of every class. There is danger, therefore, 
to the most moderate claims of the Dissenters, should 
the ministers desert their cause ; to the ministers them- 
selves, should they remain steady to it ; and I dread from 
the whole affair a fierce renewal of religious dissensions, 
and of a persecuting spirit directed against all sectaries 
and free inquirers. It would be most unfortunate should 
a measure of general education be proposed and carried 
into effect during such an access of ffigh-chnrchism, as 



200 



TO DR. CHANXIXG. 



its character would of course be narrow and exclusive, and 
the effect would be to fix on the children of Dissenters 
a universal stigma. It is also certain that nothing would 
strengthen so much the hands of the Tories as a rally 
for the Church. Nor would the Poor-law question be 
uninfluenced by such a crisis. To promote a spirit of 
independence amongst the labouring classes would not 
be the aim of triumphant squires and parsons. I am 
obliged to state all this very crudely, but verbum sapienti. 
You will see, on the whole, that our state is an anxious 
one. I could wish that the Irish Church question were first 
to be dealt with. It was Catholic emancipation which 
repealed the English Test and Corporation Acts. You 
will not wonder that, with my historic experience, I dread 
beyond everything the mingling of ecclesiastical disputes 
with questions of civil government, especially as our 
people are much less advanced in religion than in politics. 

Fear nothing for Dr. Tuckerman. He interests us the 
more for his bursts of sensibility. " He has enthusiasm," 
said Mr. Le Breton* happily, "but no fanaticism." We 
all love him, and his suggestions are heard with respect 
by persons who have both the will and the power to 
carry them into effect to some extent. He could not 
have visited us at a better time : the state of the poor 
has become such, that all agree something must be done 
to amend it, and every one who can speak from experi- 
ence on the subject is heard with deep attention. There 
is much benevolent activity amongst us, which only 
wants and asks to be well guided. We are all struck 
with his eloquence. " He took me by the button/ 5 said 
Mr. Le Breton, "last time I saw him, and certainly 
preached a short sermon ; but I did not wish it ended." 
In fact, the oftener he is heard, the less one wishes him 
to end. Since I finished the last sentence, I have taken 

* The Rev. Philip Le Breton. 



to miss a ram 



201 



two ladies to call on him ; I never heard him so inte- 
resting and eloquent in the illustration of his principles 
and plans. The ladies were all attention ; and one of 
them, who lives with her brother, a country clergyman, 
and devotes herself with him and his daughters to the 
welfare of a village, found much correspondence between 
their modes of proceeding and his — except that they talk 
to the people of original sin. I admired the dexterity 
with which he slid over this difference. He has more 
tact and sagacity than I ever saw united with such 
ardour. — You trace a beautiful outline of what essays 
for women ought to teach. I fear I could not fill it up ; 
but I feel that in these days knowledge of points of 
debate is necessary, to prevent our quick feelings from 
making us fierce upon them. Ignorant partizans are 
always the most violent. Candour, the virtue of the 
wise, is that in which women are most deficient. 

I fear I must at length have quite wearied you ; in 
writing to you I know not where to stop. 

I rejoice in the good account you give Dr. Tuckerman 
of your health. 

Believe me ever most sincerely yours, 

L. Aikin. 



To Miss Aikd> t . 

Boston, April, 1834. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — It is a long time since I have 
heard from you, though I hear of you through my friends 
in England. You are well and cheered by success, and 
I trust have found a new subject worthy of your powers. 
Have you never thought of memoirs of the Common- 
wealth ? or are you so much of a royalist that 'you can 
only write memoirs of a court ? Speaking of history, I 

k 3 



202 



TO MISS AIKIff. 



am reminded of a fine review of Guizot's Gibbon in the 
last " Quarterly." With tlie exception of a thrust at 
Priestley, its tone was singularly liberal and generous for 
that periodical. Is it not remarkable that France should 
furnish the first Christian annotator on Gibbon ? It is 
a good sign. I must hope more from that country than 
you do. Is Milman equal to the work of furnishing 
additional notes to Gibbon ? I wish the same office 
could be done for Hume which Guizot has done for 
Gibbon. What a flood of light has been thrown on 
your history since Hume's time ! and yet the work will 
always be read. Can no impartial friend of freedom 
supply an antidote to his errors ? 

I think Y\ r hen I last wrote you I was reading Bulwer's 
England. I rose from it with admiration of the various 
powers and respect for the philanthropy of the author. 

One of your gifted countrywomen here lately recom- 
mended to me Godolphin (a novel by I know not whom) 
as giving the best views of your highest classes. Have 
you read it ? is it an authority ? It is certainly written 
with power, and interested me a good deal, which is 
what I can say of very few fictions, excepting Sir 
Walter's. The writer makes the stream of aristocratic 
life shallow and turbulent enough, and so it must be. 
It is impossible that they whose whole existence is 
founded on superficial distinction should understand 
true greatness or happiness. Nothing is more natural 
than that they should resort to vulgar, i.e. outward, 
means of cherishing and manifesting that consciousness 
of superiority which is the very breath of their life. 
When is this spirit of hollow pretension ^nd exclusive- 
ness to cease ? Not till it is met by a just self-respect 
in other classes of society. The true self-respect would 
put the spurious to flight at once. Let true dignity be 
understood, and the false could not hold up its head. 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



203 



All pretension thrives through some intellectual or moral 
deficiency in the community. The book says something, 
though not as much as I expected, of that exclusive 
spirit which, as I learn, has penetrated the ranks of aris- 
tocracy itself, which sets up fashion against birth and 
titles, and which pronounces some of the highest nobi- 
lity, and even Majesty itself, "en mauvais ton" — that, 
I believe, is the phrase. When I hear of the delicate 
tact of these fashionables, which detects the minutest 
particles of vulgarity, and the almost imperceptible lines 
of high-breeding, I wish that a kindred power might be 
brought to bear on morals. How little we understand- 
yet the refinements of virtue ! The assailants of aristo- 
cracy, such as our author, little understand that their 
principles, fairly carried out, would bring on a revolution 
in society far deeper than changes of constitution or 
dynasties, and such as they would not relish much. No 
matter. They are ministering unconsciously to the pur- 
poses of a higher "Wisdom and Benevolence than their 
own. I wish you could name to me some good novel or 
light work. Sometimes I want easy reading, but find it 
hard to satisfy myself. Books which do not set me to 
thinking are generally dull. 

We hear good accounts of England, though I do not 
see much prospect of relief and improvement to your 
uneducated and depressed millions. I cannot forget 
these, and they darken your country, and make me 
almost shudder at your luxury and prosperity. What a 
tremendous price you pay for what is called your civiliza- 
tion! Were your higher ranks virtuous, I could be more 
reconciled to the ignorance, vice and misery of the 
lower ; but the eye finds little relief in passing from the 
squalidness of the pauper class to the pomp and glitter 
of the rich and noble. Of my own country I have not 
much to boast. The warfare of our headstrong, arbitrary 



204 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



President with our National Bank has turned our pros- 
perity into commercial distress. Selfish partizans are 
at work on both sides, and new combinations of parties 
are formed, bringing together those who a year ago could 
say nothing too hard of one another. All this would do 
well in an old corrupt monarchy, but does not suit the 
paradise of a young republic. Could I see any moral 
elevation growing out of our pecuniary losses, I should 
welcome them ; but not a knee the less bows to gold. I 
am not disheartened, however. It is hoped that the 
usurpation of the President will be put down, and that 
he will be the means or occasion of introducing import- 
ant improvements into our Banking system, which, with- 
out a check, might have produced wide mischief. 
I hope to hear from you soon. 

Very sincerely your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



To Miss Aikik 

Boston, May 5, 1834. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Thanks for your letter of Feb- 
ruary 2nd. You need not fear wearying me. Your long 
full sheets are most welcome. You amuse me with the 
advice given you as to the next subject you are to write 
on. I protest against your going back to Edward III. 
Write what will bear on the present. Always keep in 
sight the highest principles at which your mind has 
arrived, and on which the best interests and progress of 
your race seem to depend, and choose topics which will 
give you means of confirming and diffusing them. If 
I understand you, a noble aim will do more than any- 
thing to bring out the whole force of your intellect. You 
must not think that I would confine you to the didactic. 



TO MISS AIKIN, 



205 



There are a thousand forms of manifesting great prin- 
ciples, and I have no disposition to prescribe a form to 
another mind. Your letter gave me a more discouraging 
view of the state of opinion and feeling than your former 
ones. You plainly think that Church reform is not 
making much way. I fear so, and I will assign some 
causes which, coming from a distance, may interest you, 
and about which I wish your opinion. First, I fear too 
many of your advocates of Church reform are mere poli- 
ticians, worldly reformers, who cast a wistful eye on the 
revenues of the Establishment, and are willing to disturb 
old titles ; and in this way the cause of the Church has 
become identified with the cause of Property, the chief 
idol of a commercial people. Next, the Church is really 
reformed to a degree. Its ministry was never so respect- 
able, faithful, useful, and it is willing to part with many 
abuses which are not necessary to its strength. Again, 
Dissent, by growing milder in its doctrines, by parting 
with the old Calvinistic, Puritanical rigour, has ap- 
proached the Church, so that none need become schis- 
matic for the sake of a " purer faith/' especially since 
the Evangelical party has grown up in the Establish- 
ment. Again, I suppose that your late political changes 
have brought many of the natural friends of the Church 
into Parliament on the side of your Whig ministry. 
But the great cause remains to be named. You have not 
the spirit of religious reform, of better religious institu- 
tions/among you. Here is the root of the evil. Your 
people have no passion for truth, no enthusiasm about 
high principles. There is no brighter light breaking 
in among you, producing restlessness, discontent, and a 
desire of something better than you have. Perhaps 
England was never more destitute than at this moment 
of a thirst for the higher order of truths. You have a 
low, earthly, material, utilitarian philosophy. You have 



206 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



no intellectual and moral philosophy. Your religious 
system is a relic of former times, retained from the 
absence of sufficient spiritual activity to change it, and 
held with little intimate conviction, so that it secretly 
favours the scepticism which it talks against loudly. 
Your moral system is — I know not what. It would be 
comforting to see any great principle fought for to the 
death. Even German mysticism is to be preferred to 
this absence of spiritual life. There is much intellectual 
action among you,' but spent on the surface and tangible 
realities of life. Such a country is the very spot for an 
Establishment remarkable for decorum, order, show with- 
out gaudiness, and a grave magnificence, which neither 
tasks the intellect nor tortures the conscience, which 
knows how to make a compromise with the pomp and 
vanities of the higher classes, and yet inculcates, in word 
at least, the precepts of Christianity. This is strong lan- 
guage, and I have thrown it off very much as earnest 
people talk, who venture on hyperbole to make a truth 
palpable, and neglect to modify, in their zeal to make an 
impression. You must not take me to the letter. I wish 
to give you my general view of the English mind. What 
you say of the strength of Toryism goes to prove that I 
am right in the main, for Toryism is essentially blind- 
ness to spiritual truth. It never penetrates beneath the 
exterior of human nature, birth, rank, wealth and man- 
ners, to the divine principles in the soul. Now you have 
the character of being all Tories at heart, and how can 
you expect a real religious reform, or any great improve- 
ment in religious institutions ? I began with telling you 
that my reasons for the strong tendencies to Ckurch-of- 
Englandism which you speak of, might interest you as 
coming from a distance. On this account I distrust 
them. It is hard for a stranger to know the true state 
of another country. Do set me right. After talking so 



to miss a rem. 



207 



freely of your country, I incline to take some liberties 
with my own, and this I do because we are told that 
Miss Martineau intends us the honour of a visit. I am 
truly glad, and shall give her a hearty welcome; but I do 
fear she will be disappointed here, and will receive less 
pleasure than she will give. Almost all your travellers 
have carried away from us unfavourable impressions. 
We ascribe it to national prejudice ; but there must be 
a broader cause ; and this is to be found in our state 
of society, which has features not very inviting to a 
foreigner. We have one unlucky trait for our visitors. 
We are a reserved people, rather cold in manner, and 
wanting in expressions of sympathy. I ascribe this in 
part to our Puritan descent. Our fathers came over, 
you know, to establish their church, and they lived 
together in the character of church members, who were 
to keep what they called " a godly watch " over each 
other. Accordingly, every man was under surveillance, 
and one consequence was the suppression of all feelings 
which did not suit the sanctity of the age. Society was 
frozen by a jealous caution ; and, notwithstanding great 
changes, this sin of the fathers, I fear, is visited in a 
measure even on the present generation. Another cause 
of our reserve may be found in our political institutions. 
This will surprise you ; but you know everything is wor- 
shipped, and here the people is king. A man, to rise, 
must get the favour of the people — thence a great defer- 
ence to popular opinion when once pronounced, and 
much wariness against giving offence. Another cause 
is the early period of life in which the young are thrown 
on themselves, cast on the world. A young man begins 
to support himself, becomes a man of business, sooner 
here than elsewhere, a circumstance very favourable to 
morals ; but one consequence is, that the tide of youthful 
feeling is sooner checked, and habits of caution and 



208 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



calculation sooner begin their war on the enthusiastic 
principle of our nature. Once more, the necessity under 
which we are all laid of labour, prevents much cultiva- 
tion of the art of social communication. Society is less 
an object ; graceful and easy conversation less studied ; 
awkwardness and diffidence less resisted. That a stranger 
should find us more shut up, should think that we want 
heart, you will not wonder after this detail. Another 
thing which I find strikes the English when they visit 
us is the apparent want of filial deference. Our children 
are subjected to fewer outward restraints than yours. 
We profess to rely more on inward restraints, on the 
affections, reason and conscience of the child ; but in 
many cases these higher principles are neglected, and 
the stranger is shocked by domestic insubordination. 
Another unpleasant feature in our society is the want 
of good domestics, one result of easier or more honour- 
able means of subsistence. No one in this country 
thinks of being a servant for life, and the demand for 
labour in other departments of industry is often so great, 
that in many places a favour is conferred by going into 
a family in this capacity. Now, to a traveller the annoy- 
ance arising from this deficiency in our domestic esta- 
blishments is often great, and especially to the English, 
who are so well served at home. You will easily see 
that a country such as I have described, however dis- 
tinguished by private virtue, general intelligence, and 
strong domestic affection, will not show well to a 
foreigner, unless to one who can get admission into the 
interior of our social system, which is seldom the case. 
Miss Martineau will bring with her the repulsion of 
celebrity as an authoress, an additional difficulty in the 
way of free communion, which, however, may be done 
away by genuine affability and self-forgetfulness. But 
let her come ; and let her tell the truth, too, of us. I 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 209 



want that we should know our faults, and, if nothing 
else will do, be scourged out of them : but there is no 
need of this severity ; there is a spirit of improvement 
at work among us, and a wise, philanthropic traveller 
may do us good. To use your own language, I fear I 
have wearied you. 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Chaining. 

I have had no time to speak of Eammohun Boy, 
Why cannot Englishwomen combine their efforts to 
elevate their sex in Hindostan ? There is a noble and fit 
object for women. I should rejoice to have an associa- 
tion for this end bearing Eammohun Roy's name. Could 
a better monument be raised to him ? I hope sectarian- 
ism would not deny him this honour. If so, the object 
might still be accomplished. The Hindoos, I believe, 
are willing to have their women taught by Europeans. 
Is not this as great an object for philanthropy as aboli- 
tion of slavery ? Perhaps greater. Have you no disposi- 
tion to labour in the field ? 



To Dr. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, May 29, 1834. 

My dear Friend, — In your welcome letter received 
about ten days since, you said it was long since you had 
heard from me ; but I think you must very soon after 
have received a long one from me ; at least, I wrote one, 
and consigned it as usual to Dr. Boott. This is to go 
by Dr. Tuckerman, whom we are very loth to part with, 
for we all revere and love him ; but there is some satis- 
faction in his assurances that he also loves us, and will 
do his utmost to send you to visit us. Mr. Phillips we 



210 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



hope to keep a little longer. He is a general favourite, 
and perhaps even better liked in society than his friend, 
whose mind is almost engrossed by one subject. It 
mortified me to catch only a glimpse of Mr. Dewey; his 
stay was so short that he was gone before I could find 
an opportunity to invite him. I heard great praise of 
his pulpit eloquence from very good judges. Send us 
more such visitors ; they will do much to overcome 
prejudices on both sides. And now to reply to the ques- 
tions in your letter. 

" Godolphin" I have not read. I understand it was 
written by a Mr. Sunderland, who is genteelly connected, 
and was educated at Oxford ; but as his extreme youth 
cannot have allowed him extensive opportunities of 
observation in any society, it would be unreasonable to 
put much faith in his view of manners. All novelists 
run into exaggeration of one kind or other, for the sake 
of effect. Formerly, they were chiefly reproached with 
painting " faultless monsters/' whose charms and graces 
threw all living merit into shade, and disgusted young 
people with the sober realities of life. But this was a 
splendid sin compared with that of the present fashion- 
able school, who exaggerate nothing but vices and follies, 
and delight in representing as odious or contemptible 
those classes who will nevertheless continue to be objects 
of envy to most of their inferiors. In high, as in low 
and in middle life, there will always be many who yield 
to the peculiar temptations of their situation, but many 
also who resist, and I know no rea&on whatever for 
believing that our aristocracy are worse in any respect 
than in past ages ; on the contrary, I know some strong 
reasons for thinking that in several respects they are 
better. No one denies that they are much less addicted 
to drinking, less also to gaming ; for men play less, in 
general society at least, and women scarcely at all. I 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 



211 



cannot say whether there is less licentiousness ; but yon 
who have read Walpole will not dispute that there is 
much more decorum, much more of at least outward 
respect for religion and virtue, and I think it is plain 
that even hypocrisy must put some restraint on vice. 
Then it is certain that the circumstances of the times 
keep the higher classes in a state of extraordinary mental 
activity ; that they feel it necessary to cultivate all their 
talents, to inform themselves on every question of prac- 
tical importance, and at the same time to preserve the 
graceful accomplishments which may serve to conciliate 
public approbation. 

With respect to what you have heard of a class of 
fashionables who set their own pretensions above those 
of rank and title, there is something in it ; the most 
fashionable persons in London are so rather by merit, if 
one may so apply the term, than by birth. A certain 
talent, or tact, is necessary to become an " arbiter ele- 
gantiarum and although there may be not a little of 
presumption and conceit amongst the exclusives, they 
have at least the recommendation of daring to show great 
lords and great ladies that they may be looked down 
upon in society if they rely too much upon mere rank 
and pedigree. You cannot without seeing it imagine 
the charm which waits upon a patroness of Almack's. 
Perfect good-breeding is a beautiful thing to behold, and 
no fine art deserves to be more studied. 

I leave it to Dr. Tuckerman to describe to you the 
society in which he has lived, which consists chiefly of 
the higher part of the middle class, and is the same with 
which I mostly associate. I know he will give you a 
good account of it, and that he will especially attest the 
zeal prevalent in this set for the improvement of the 
character and condition of the poor. Much is doing for 
the ignorant and degraded, and I trust that they will 



212 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



not long be numbered by millions, even in Ireland. 
Immense things are in agitation regarding the poor and 
regarding the Church, and both subjects are approached 
by many, especially the first, in a pretty good spirit. I 
do not yet wish to see the Establishment overthrown, 
because at present the fanatics would be able to seize 
the chief power and oppress all free inquirers ; but it will 
do Mother Church no manner of hurt to be put in mind 
of her end, and the Dissenters are willing enough to jog 
her memory on this subject. The worst is, that we must 
expect an increase of bitterness and animosity as these 
Dissenters proceed, for when was ever an ecclesiastical 
question settled in a Christian spirit ? And in the mean- 
time, I grieve to see literature swamped as it is between 
politics and theology. You may inquire in vain for light 
reading. Poetry we have none; and though we have 
novels not a few, I really know of none which are much 
praised by people of taste. We can scarcely find new 
works sufficient to keep our Book Society alive. The 
dearth is something quite strange, and hardly credible at 
a time when everybody affirms that there is more reading 
than ever in the country. I suppose people will be tired 
of twopenny tracts ere long, and then there will again 
be a demand for hooks. In France there is an equal 
stagnation ; in Germany alone literature really flourishes, 
although, or perhaps "because, literary labour scarcely 
brings there any pecuniary reward, on account of the 
impossibility of securing copyright beyond the limits of 
a single state. The most laborious works, I hear, are 
composed by professors of universities, as in some mea- 
sure a part of their duty, or a means of distinction. I 
wish I could tell you that I am again settled into some 
substantial work, but I cannot yet fit myself with a sub- 
ject. Two in English history have engaged my attention ; 
that which you suggest, the Commonwealth, and the two 



TO DR. CHAINING, 



213 



first Georges. But I rather dread the quantity of dry 
reading, especially of the polemical kind, which the first 
would require, and in general the ruggedness of the theme, 
on which it would scarcely be practicable to strew flowers. 
The second also somewhat affrights me by its magnitude, 
for the materials would be redundant, and it also repels 
me by the want of great and interesting events ; in short, 
I am not enough pleased with either of these periods to 
be willing to live in it for years. Sometimes I meditate 
another kind of writing — essays, moral and literary, I 
seem to myself to have some thoughts which it might 
be useful or agreeable to put on paper ; but here fears 
and scruples of many kinds assail me. If I were to give 
the rein freely to my speculations, I know not whither 
they would lead me — most likely into a kind of Pyrr- 
honism which would give great offence to this dogma- 
tizing age. I am not here referring to religious topics, 
on which I should never think of addressing the public ; 
besides that, on these my mind is pretty well settled, 
though not in opinions which would be approved ; but 
I have in view many points relating to morals and the 
conduct of life, on which I am much more convinced 
that error generally prevails, than prepared to pronounce 
what is truth or reason. I am a little disposed to envy 
those who can adopt a sect or party, and stick by it with 
unfaltering allegiance. Such people know at least what 
to wish for, what to aim at, what to praise or blame, what 
and whom to love and to hate. With me it is quite the 
contrary. I remain suspended and neutral amid the 
unceasing clash of parties and principles which rages 
around me. I listen to both or to all sides till I can 
take part with none, and I fold my arms in indolence 
for want of knowing anything to be done which might 
not just as well, or better, be let alone. Can you pre- 



214 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



scribe any remedy for a state like this, which I am dis- 
posed to regard as a morbid one, because one sees that 
if it were to become epidemic, the whole world would go 
to sleep ? 

Events press fast upon us. Since I began this letter, 
a few days only ago, a split of the Cabinet has been 
announced on the important question of the appropria- 
tion of the temporalities of the Irish Church. Mr. Stanley 
and two more, who insisted on preserving the whole to 
the Protestant Establishment, go out ; and we may con- 
sequently expect to see the cause of Church Eeform 
espoused by the government. In this I do unfeignedly 
rejoice. It gives some reason to hope that a compromise 
may be effected with the English Dissenters also, which 
will divert them, for a time at least, from seeking the 
utter overthrow of the Establishment. But much will 
depend on what cannot well be reckoned on, the pru- 
dence and moderation of our Upper House, especially 
the lords spiritual. There are sinister reports concerning 
the sanity of our poor well-meaning King. A regency, 
with a Tory Queen at its head, might prove under present 
circumstances a dangerous incident. Political unions are 
said to be spreading over the country, or rather trades 7 
unions, which, on the slightest cause of jealousy given 
by the government, would immediately become political 
ones. I should exceedingly dread to see more power 
fall into the hands of the low and ignorant, the selfish, 
and, on the whole, not moral classes, of whom these 
associations are composed ; and nothing can preserve us 
from this peril but a wise, just and liberal, but moderate 
administration. After all, though I have been murmur- 
ing at the svjamping of literature between religion and 
politics, I feel that I cannot myself resist the influence 
of circumstances. We are in a state of revolution, it 



TO DR. CHANNIXG. 



215 



cannot be denied, and however one may wish to divert 
one's mind from the present and the directly practical, it 
will not be ; and those who do not pretend to be able to 
instruct the public on the great questions of Church and 
State (and I am sure I do not), must be content, as 
matters stand, to hear, see, and say nothing. I am reading 
a long and a great work, Sismondi's "History of the 
Italian Republics." It errs somewhat on the side of 
minute detail, as might well be expected, considering 
that the author had occasion to take for his authorities 
the native historians — those masters of prolixity. But 
with this abatement, the work is surely a very noble one, 
full of interesting circumstances and lively, graphic de- 
scriptions, both of places from personal knowledge and 
of characters and incidents. The moral tone is admirable. 
The author seems to me unerringly faithful to the best 
interests of mankind, except that he perhaps prizes a 
little too highly the turbulent liberty of Florence ; fertile, 
however, it must be owned, in great men in every line. 
I am told that Sismondi's "History of France" is, how- 
ever, his best work ; and if I do not set myself to writing, 
I think my next task may be to read it. History never 
tires me. 

Pray make Dr. Tuckerman tell you a great deal about 
all us, especially ask him about my friend Mrs. Coltinan,* 
in whom he delights, and then figure to yourself how 
you will enjoy finding yourself surrounded by such dis- 
ciples (for all this set are your disciples, and have received 
your friends in your name). 

An unpleasant suspicion comes over me that I have 
been inditing a vastly dull epistle : pray excuse it, if so 
it be. There will be better and worse in letters, as in 
other things : there is a happiness in topics and expres- 
sions not to be commanded ; and if my letter be good for 

* Afterwards Lady Coltman, wife of the late Judge. 



216 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



nothing else, let it at least serve to assure you of my 
continued esteem and friendship, and my anxiety to keep 
up my privilege of communication with you. 

Ever most truly yours, 

L. Aikin. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, June 19, 1834. 

Mr. Phillips offers me conveyance for a letter to you, 
and though rather pressed for time, I will begin : at least 
I may be able to thank you for your last admirable letter, 
and to convey my sense of its contents. I am very much 
enlightened as well as pleased by your remarks on your 
own country. What very curiously corroborates their 
justness is, that the characteristics which you note as of 
Presbyterian origin are, or were, almost equally observ- 
able here in the Scotch and the old English Dissenters. 
The same coldness and reserve of manner — the same 
repression of enthusiasm — the same caution and mutual 
superintendence, I have been struck with in them ever 
since I have been able largely to compare them with 
our Episcopalians. Miss Martineau, being herself of Dis- 
senting parentage and connection, will be fully prepared 
to find warm hearts under cold manners, but even our 
sauciest travellers bear ample testimony to the hospitality 
they find amongst you. Do you know I am half inclined 
to quarrel with you for calling us foreigners with respect 
to you ? I think we never call you so. Our common 
origin, common language, and common history down to 
a period not yet beyond the memory of man, forbid the 
use of that chilling word. Pray leave it off. 

I think you quite right in the main respecting our 
religious state. There is, however, a great deal of earnest 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



217 



belief amongst our Evangelicals in and out of the Church, 
and a good deal of unobtrusive piety amongst individuals 
of all communions ; and I would say that the warm re- 
ception your works have found from persons in as well 
as out of the Establishment is a strong proof that spi- 
ritual religion is congenial with many minds. In the 
meantime, the present struggle between the Church and 
the Dissenters must be regarded as partaking more of 
the nature of a civil than a religious contest. The ques- 
tion is, Shall the Church monopoly be suffered longer to 
exist in all its rigour, or shall it be made to yield more 
or less to the spirit of the age and the demands of justice ? 
You will see that the Bill for abolishing subscription 
at the universities as a condition of graduation has been 
carried by a great majority in the Commons, being sup- 
ported by most of the Scotch and Irish members. It is 
probable that the Lords will throw it out : but it will, 
nevertheless, be a great triumph to the Dissenters to .find 
the representatives of the people so decidedly in their 
favour. The question of the appropriation of Tithes in 
Ireland particularly will, next come to be discussed; and 
should the two Houses form opposite decisions on this 
question likewise, very long and very important political 
consequences may, mast be the result. The Establish- 
ment is by no means so willing as you have been led to 
believe to correct its own abuses. It is highly probable 
that Brougham's Church Bill will also be lost amonc 

° o 

the lords spiritual and temporal. It will, unless a salu- 
tary fear of provoking one knows not what, should seize 
upon these noble and right reverend personages. I am 
surprised at daily proofs of an alienation of the minds 
of men from the Church, for which, as you know, I was 
not in the least prepared. In no one county, town or 
city, have the friends of the Establishment ventured to 
call a public meeting for the purpose of raising the cry 

L 



218 



TO DK. CHANNING. 



of " The Church in danger !" The blustering of Oxford, 
with its military chancellor,* has failed to excite emula- 
tion. I believe that if the Church is to stand, great 
concessions must be made, not only on the points of 
pluralities, sinecures and non-residence, but in the matter 
of Church patronage. The Scotch General Assembly has 
found it expedient to allow the parishioners at large a 
negative on the appointment of the patron, and I look 
daily for some similar claim here. Now all these may 
be regarded as tendencies towards what is called the 
"voluntary" Church system, which I have no doubt you 
will allow to be much more favourable to spirituality 
than an Establishment dependent chiefly on the Crown 
and the hereditary aristocracy of the country. 

You will gather from all this that I conceive the 
popular interest to be fast gaining ground, and that I 
believe it must finally carry every point in contest, 
whether civil or ecclesiastical. I believe also that im- 
portant reforms will thus be effected, and the well-being 
of the people at large promoted. Nevertheless, I cannot 
exult in the tone of national feeling. I fear we do indeed 
deserve to be reproached as a nation of shopkeepers: 
all our quarrels are money-quarrels — every question in 
high debate may be resolved into one of £. s. d. Ask 
the trade unions what they require ? Higher wages. 
The shopkeepers ? The repeal of the assessed taxes. 
The manufacturers ? Free trade, especially in corn. The 
landed interest ? The continuance of the corn-laws, and 
of all others favourable to the maintenance of their rents. 
Now this universal worship of Mammon makes me sigh 
and blush for my country. In the first political struggles 
I can remember, great and noble principles were at stake ; 
now it is a vulgar dispute who shall pay most, or least 
rather, towards a long reckoning. Fox was the type of 

* The Duke of Wellington. 



TO DE. CHANNTtfG. 



219 



the former period, Joseph Hume of the present. But 
looking at the causes of this extraordinary activity of 
the mercenary principle amongst us, I am willing to 
believe that they are in great measure of a temporary 
nature. The taxes have pressed with crushing weight 
on every class and interest by turns. It was the hope 
of relief from pecuniary distress principally which has 
brought the people into collision, first with the borough- 
owners, now with the tithe-owners. Some burdens have 
been already lightened by our reformed legislature, but 
the Court and the Tories still resist retrenchment, and 
it is necessary that even a clamour for it should still be 
kept up. But let reforms in expenditure once have been 
carried fairly through all departments, and this extra- 
ordinary pressure removed, and the active spirits of our 
people will demand higher and better occupation. Then 
shall we find the great results of the illumination of the 
popular mind, which has been all this time proceeding 
with a constantly accelerating pace ; then expect from 
us moralists, poets, philosophers. I will tell you a little 
anecdote which has made me hope highly of the effects 
of the diffusion of literature amongst the lower classes. 
Dear Jane Koscoe, whose head is all benevolence, having 
accidentally discovered that various cruel practices pre- 
vailed amongst the market people at Liverpool, caused 
a committee of ladies to be sanctioned by the mayor for 
the prevention of these offences. It then occurred to 
her that, to go to the root of the evil, the market people 
themselves should be humanized by knowledge, and she 
got a society instituted by ladies for supplying them 
with a circulation of books. Soon after, the wife of a 
small butcher requested of her, on the part of her hus- 
band, a second view of one of the volumes. " He says, 
madam, that they say the tracts the gentlefolks give us 
poor people to read are books for children, but that he 

L 2 



220 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



is sure this is a book for a man, and such a book as he 
never saw the like of ; and never anything did delight 
him so much; he can talk of nothing else." It was 
" Paradise Lost/' 

The Archbishop of Dublin (Whately) is doing much 
good by reconciling the Catholics to the national schools, 
from the system of which he has banished everything 
offensive to their religion. " To be sure/' said an old 
Oxford colleague of his to me, " he is the very opposite 
of the sort of person I should have chosen for the situa- 
tion ; I would have had a man remarkable for mildness, 
patience, willing to hear and to answer all objections ; 
but God knows better how to appoint His own instru- 
ments. I know many people who, if the Archbishop 
were to be roasted, would go to get a bit of him, because 
he has yielded to the Catholics respecting giving chil- 
dren the whole Bible. But he goes on, and he could not 
care less for abuse if he were made of wood. He says 
of the Sabbath, ' Spend if you please, or if you can, the 
whole day in religious exercises, but put things on the 
true footing ; do not tell your children it was instituted 
by God's command to Moses to commemorate the crea- 
tion, but tell them it was fixed by the Apostles to com- 
memorate the resurrection. Give it all the sanctity you 
please, but not on a wrong ground.' This has given 
great offence. So has a very learned and philosophical 
work in which, by tracing the origin of many Eomish 
superstitions to the principles or the weaknesses of our 
common nature, he has been charged by some with ex- 
tenuating them." He added, that the Archbishop had a 
great fondness for parables in conversation, which were 
often rather homely ones, and for experiments. One day, 
at a great set dinner at the Lord-lieutenant's, a question 
arose, how long a man could live with his head under 
water. The Archbishop quitted the room, and presently 



TO DR. CHANNIXG. 



221 



returned with a great basin full of water, which he set 
on the table- and plunged his head in before the whole 
company. Having held it there an enormous length of 
time, he drew it out, crying, " There ! none of you could 
have kept your heads in so long, but I know the method 
of it." Another time, also at a formal party at the Castle, 
he spoke of the great weight a man could support on 
the calf of his leg, bending it outwards. " If your Grace 
of Cashel," said he, " will stand upon mine, as I stretph 
it out, I can bear your weight without the slightest diffi- 
culty." But his Grace of Cashel would not have done 
so odd a thing in that company for millions. I take a 
fancy to a metropolitan who dares to be odd, to conciliate 
the Irish Catholics, and to provoke the saints, alias 
bigots. — No, I shall not go back to Edward III., never 
fear. No black-letter documents for me ! But I am not 
yet the nearer to finding work for my pen. I do want 
a nolle subject, and I cannot find one in our history after 
exhausting Charles I. I am in a thoroughly unfixed 
state of mind, which begins to feel irksome to me. This 
whole London season I have been much in society, and 
I have seen so many and such various people, and have 
put myself in the way of hearing such various opinions, 
that I feel as if I had been on an excursion with the 
Diable Boiteux ; that is, I seem a spectator of all things, 
inclined to be satisfied with that indolent amusement, 
and to take part in nothing. I suppose there is a limit 
to the benefit of hearing all sides. La Fontaine came 
at last to the two maxims, that Everything may be true, 
and that Everybody has reason on his side. With such 
notions I do not see how any one could write eloquently, 
or indeed give himself the trouble to write anything at 
all but tales and fables to divert idle people. If my 
letter is to go to-day, as it ought, I must not fill up my 
corners as usual, but despatch this hasty scrawl, in which 



222 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



you will find, I believe, some things contradictory of 
my former views of things, — -an inconvenience not to be 
avoided when every day develops popular feelings more 
and more. 

Believe me ever, with true esteem, 

Your attached friend, 

Lucy Aikik 

To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, August, 1834. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received your letter by Dr. 
Tuckerman a few days ago, and I am the more disposed 
to answer it soon on account of one of the topics in 
which I feel much interest. You tell me you are not 
yet suited with a subject for your pen, and that you are 
wavering between history and essays on society, &c. I 
am not very forward to be a counsellor on such a subject, 
because I feel that one's own consciousness and prefer- 
ence are generally the surest guides as to what one can 
do best ; but as you seem to invite my opinion, I cannot 
but express my hope that you will fix on the essays. I 
think that you have looked on society with a searching 
eye, and can help it to comprehend itself. I would have 
your essays turn on the past as well as the present. In 
your historical researches you must have taken many 
general views of society not given in your Memoirs, and 
must have materials for many striking comparisons be- 
tween the past and the present. Portraits of distin- 
guished individuals, the character and influences of sects 
and parties, the connection between the great social 
revolution of our own day, the civil and religious revo- 
lutions on which your attention has been turned ; in a 
word, the philosophy of history as far as you have ex- 
plored it, — all these topics might find a place in your 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



223 



volume. I have no fear for your severity, if you will 
only watch over your motives, and will reprove in the 
spirit of philanthropy, and with a sincere desire to re- 
move obstructions to the progress of your fellow-beings. 
This I have wanted to say to you ; but let me add, be 
guided by your own mind. You are, after all, the best 
judge of the subjects into which you can throw your 
whole strength. I shall be glad to know that you agree 
with me, but shall be very tolerant if you differ. I have 
forgotten to state one reason for my choice, which seems 
to me of weight. I think you will benefit your own 
mind by giving it a new action, by exercising it on a 
new field. 

My remarks on your aristocracy have led you to say 
a good word in its favour, which I am glad to hear and 
not at all disposed to gainsay. J can easily believe that 
among those who occupy a false position there may be 
not a few who overcome its disadvantages, especially at 
times which demand great effort. I believe that the 
tendencies of aristocracy are hostile to those of Christi- 
anity and civilization ; that it is a principle of division, 
whilst these bring together and harmonize mankind ; 
that it generates a spurious self-respect and an ungrounded 
and unsocial consciousness of superiority ; that it confers 
on outward accidents the honour, distinction, influence 
due to merit alone ; and that it is out of place and must 
be a perpetual spring of jealousy and disunion in times 
like the present, when we have learnt that the general 
weal is the only object of social institutions, and that 
every human being has a right to the means of improv- 
ing his nature. I will not deny that it was in place in 
former times, when the community was hardly capable 
of any stronger or more generous bond than loyalty or 
devotion to chiefs. But those times are past ; not that 
loyalty is superseded, for it never will be ; but as men 



224 



TO MISS AIKIK. 



make progress, loyalty becomes more and more a senti- 
ment of moral reverence, exalting alike to him who yields 
and him who receives it. There will always be an aris- 
tocracy ; but the natural aristocracy, that of intellectual 
and moral endowment, is to take place of the conven- 
tional. Happy it will be for yon if the latter shall pass 
into the former, at least so far as to prevent violent 
changes. These I dread. Though born in a revolution, 
I am anything but a revolutionist. My hope is in 
the regeneration of the world by the peaceful influences 
of Christianity and increasing knowledge. Sometimes, 
indeed, society must be convulsed to give these principles 
any chance of action, but you are not in this case. May 
you be quiet for ages ! 

You are alarmed by the trades' unions. I have per- 
haps less fear, but think of them with as little favour as 
yourself. You must bear them, however, for they are 
necessary. They belong to the times. Everywhere you 
see men running into masses, and abandoning solitary 
for joint and public notice, and there are reasons why 
this tendency should manifest itself peculiarly in the 
people. The people are individually insignificant, and 
can accomplish nothing but by overwhelming numbers. 
The lighter the particles, the more must be accumulated 
to produce any considerable weight. Then it is only by 
banding themselves that the people can get a share of 
political power, the passion for which is the keener for 
having been repressed so long ; and I see not how the 
aristocracy, who are devoured by this passion, can with 
any show of reason find fault with it in others. It is 
also true that the people have been taught by experience, 
that they can only secure their rights by an alarming 
manifestation of force ; right must thunder to be heard ; 
and surely the aristocracy cannot blame them for using 
an instrument which they have themselves made neces- 



TO MISS ATKTN. 



225 



sary. In another way the old order of things has given 
rise to these unions. It has produced a strong feeling of 
opposition of interests between the high and low, a feel- 
ing very much exaggerated by the ignorance in which 
the masses have been kept. Is it strange that the 
people, conscious of individual weakness, as fond of 
power as their betters, stung with the idea of wrongs, 
loving excitement, bent only on physical advantages, and 
as impatient as children for immediate, visible effects, 
should partake in the general propensity to run into 
masses, and to carry their points by imposing co-opera- 
tion ? You know I am no friend to this rage for associa- 
tion. It seems to me a bad sign when the individual 
loses the consciousness of power, when nobody can do 
anything alone, when even books, once the products of 
independent and solitary agency, must be made by 
literary co-partnership, and even genius becomes a 
drudge for a "Library." I know the explanation is 
found in utility. I should look for it in the want of 
spiritual development. But to save you a metaphysical 
disquisition, I will only add that my interest in the 
people (who have my chief sympathy) makes me regret 
this kind of action among them beyond a narrow limit. 
I want the people to learn their work and dignity as 
individuals, much more than their force as a mass. The 
latter discovery is full of peril, unless checked by the 
former. The people, organized and banded in seasons of 
excitement for their particular interests, lose the little 
wisdorn they have, see everything by their passions, are 
maddened by jealousies, and fall a prey to their selfish 
leaders. Sometimes they do infinite mischief ; but I do 
not fear this among you ; for, unless I mistake, your lower 
classes are too broken down to do anything unless in 
questions like the Eeforrn, where the great weight of 
the middle class is on the same side. The beginning and 



226 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



end of my preaching is, Let it be the first object of a 
community to elevate the great mass of its members. 
There I find myself on the brink of another discussion, 
but I will spare you. I had a word to say about your 
Church reform, which will be no reform at all, for you 
are incapable of one. Your Church is probably better 
than any of the popular sects, especially if its old in- 
solence has been put down by recent events ; but it is 
utterly unequal to the religious wants of the present 
state of the world. 

You wrote me a little while ago about our poet Bryant. 
He has now gone to Europe. I spoke of him as more 
immersed in politics than he is. I have lately heard of 
him as given to objects more accordant with his fine 
genius. I hope he will find a good reception. 

Our Eepublic is in quite an amusing condition as far 
as names are concerned. Our Conservative party has 
taken the name of Whigs, and is trying to fasten the 
name of Tory on the Democratic mass. But your Tories 
may comfort themselves ; their name cannot be made to 
stick to the mob. 

Do write me some other letters as "dull" as your 
last. I ask nothing better. Were it not for fear of 
plagiarism, I should be tempted to apply the epithet to 
this epistle. Perhaps it is only grave, the next fault to 
dulness, or rather one with it, in the judgment of multi- 
tudes. 

What is the best History of England for my daughter ? 
Have you read Mignet's French Bevolution ? 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Changing. 



TO DR. CHANNING-. 



227 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, October 19, 1834. 

My dear Friend —Your welcome letter arrived as I 
was actually putting pen to paper to inquire after you 
and petition to be written to. Thank you very much for 
the interest you take in the employment of my pen, and 
your suggestions on this subject. My own inclination 
is likewise to essay- writing ; but I feel diffident, well 
knowing it to be a difficult and an exhausting kind of 
composition. Sometimes I have thought the form of 
dialogue a convenient one for exhibiting the different 
sides and bearings of a subject, and I have lately made 
one or two attempts in this kind, and shall perhaps pro- 
ceed a little further. I think, at least, I have made up 
my mind not to search further for a historic subject. 
But I am again impeded in my pursuits by a failure in 
health, and am not able to apply much force of mind to 
any object. I read, however, much and variously, and 
seek to lay in ideas for more propitious seasons — should 
such be in store for me. It would be a great undertaking 
to "teach this age to understand itself;" one ought first 
to be very certain of its being understood by the teacher. 
That spirit of aristocracy of which you speak, is of itself 
one of the most perplexing and, at the same time, impor- 
tant subjects of meditation and inquiry that I know, 
especially with reference to these times and this country. 
I have not only thought and conversed, but even made 
several attempts at writing on it, without being able to 
come at all near to the end or the bottom of it. Is it 
true, I have asked, as some people say, that the English 
have more of this spirit than any people in Europe ? 
Certainly not, if by the terms it is meant that the dis- 
tinction of noble and plebeian families is broadest here. 



228 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



We have, in effect, no noblesse in the sense of old France 
or present Germany. Only the head of any family is a 
nobleman ; the younger branches are all commoners, and 
do not even retain a titular distinction beyond the first 
generation from a peer. Yet there is some reason to 
assert that haughtiness of demeanour towards inferiors 
acknowledged as such, and, still more, an extreme jealousy 
of rank and precedence, and an indignant rebutting of 
the pretensions of those a very little below themselves, 
are striking characteristics of our people. And why is 
this ? I believe because there never was a country or a 
state of society in which men were so much the artificers, 
not only of their own fortunes, but of their own rank, as 
modern England. Every advantage, every distinction, 
is held forth to be struggled for. Each is striving to sur- 
pass his neighbour, and still more to be acknowledged 
by his neighbour himself to have surpassed him. It has 
been a frequent remark with our essay- writers and novel- 
ists, that persons of real rank and gentility were much 
less arrogant than pretenders or upstarts, which is likely 
enough to be true as a general rule. But in this land of 
merchants, manufacturers, men of science, men of letters, 
orators, preachers, politicians and dandies, you may easily 
imagine that there are hundreds of pretenders and up- 
starts, or at least of men who have raised themselves, for 
one person of established, acknowledged hereditary rank, 
fortune and consequence; and thus perhaps, in some 
degree, have arrogance and insolence become unfortu- 
nately almost national characteristics; at least this seems 
likely to be the solution of the fact, if fact it be. When 
you reflect upon the activity of all these various compe- 
titors for the respect or admiration of society, as well as 
its more tangible prizes, you will perhaps better under- 
stand the grounds of what little partiality I may feel 
towards the old aristocracy, the claims of which some- 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



229 



times act as a useful counterbalance to other claims not 
better founded, and urged with more offensive self-suffi- 
ciency. But the tendency of our political state is to 
diminish all kinds of personal pre-eminence, a tendency 
of which, as you are aware, the associating spirit is both 
effect and cause. The diffusion of knowledge is in some 
respects to all the aristocracy of this age, what the dis- 
covery of gunpowder was to the military aristocracy of 
one age, and the Eeformation to the ecclesiastical aris- 
tocracy of another. As for the trades' unions, I had 
absolutely forgotten that ever I had been afraid of them. 
It is now manifest that they cannot become political 
unions. They are not, as you seem to suppose, combi- 
nations generally of the poor against the rich, but of one 
particular class, the journeymen mechanics, against all 
the rest of society beneath and around, as much as above 
themselves. The unreasonable attempt of this class to 
enhance the price of their commodity, skilled labour, 
would, if successful, cause a general advance in the money 
value of all other commodities, which, by disabling our 
manufacturers from maintaining their ascendency in 
foreign markets, must bring poverty on the journeymen 
themselves in the first place, and then on the nation. 
This is so clearly perceived, that they have found no 
sympathy anywhere, and the delusion amongst them- 
selves is subsiding, or will subside. 

You may be right that we shall have no religious 
reform, but I think we must have various Church altera- 
tions before long. In Scotland, which has now first 
become a free country, and is likely enough to give the 
tone to England on several topics, the seceders have 
lately increased prodigiously : and it is not on doctrine 
that they depart from their Church, but on what they 
call the voluntary principle, that is, that the minister 
should be elected by those who are to attend upon him, 



230 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



and paid by them alone. The refusal of vestries to 
impose Church-rates, which is becoming general, proceeds 
on the same principle. In this trial of strength, or at 
least of numbers, between the Church and Dissenters, 
the Church, which is almost synonymous with the Tory 
party, has been on the whole signally defeated. Even 
Church congregations begin to kick at patronage. Just 
now, a populous and respectable London parish, on losing 
its rector, sent a deputation to the Bishop of London, 
the patron, which took the novel liberty of requesting 
him to appoint a particular clergyman, unconnected with 
the parish, whom they named. The bishop replied that, 
in that case, they, not himself, would be the patrons, 
which he did not intend to permit, and so sent them 
off malcontent. Tithe must be abolished forthwith in 
Ireland, and must, I conceive, be much modified here. 
Now, though these be in themselves secular matters, they 
indicate in the middle classes an hostility to ecclesiastics 
and their authority and interests which cannot be with- 
out its influence on religion itself, at least on the public 
exercise of it. The Evangelicals have not made a con- 
quest of the whole people — far from it — as the defeat of 
their Sabbath Bill by the representatives of the people 
abundantly proves. Those, too, whom they have not 
subjugated they have vehemently provoked by their sour- 
ness and their spirit of dictation and exclusion ; and I 
see great reason to believe that a large proportion of those 
who now unite with the serious party against the Church, 
would equally oppose giving either additional wealth or 
power to them. 

It strikes me also as unlikely in itself that ecclesiastics 
should escape being losers by that tendency to the level- 
ing of all personal distinctions which I have already 
noted as belonging to this age. Their authority is more 
immediately dependent on public opinion than any 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



231 



other. It may seem an obvious remark, yet I know not 
that any one has made it and observed its bearings, that 
the necessity and value of oral instruction of every kind 
is, and must be, exceedingly diminished by the vast ex- 
tension now given to the art of reading and the circula- 
tion of books. A well-read layman, even of a humble 
class, will be little inclined to bow to the mere autho- 
rity of a pulpit. Unless, therefore, some man of genius 
should arise to promulgate some new system peculiarly 
adapted to the tastes, the feelings and the wants of this 
age and people, I prognosticate a period of religious in- 
difference and wide- spread disbelief. Even from the 
higher literature of the day, one may infer the rising of 
a different spirit from that which, not five years ago, 
prompted all candidates for popular applause to mix up 
something of piety with every tour, every novel, every 
song, and every sonnet. I doubt if <: Sacred Annuals''' 
will long continue in vogue. " May religion," I once 
heard a devout man say, "be always in honour, and 
never in fashion.'' 'Whatever has been in fashion will 
soon be out of fashion. Now in this land religion has 
been for a good while in fashion. The mode is chanrincr. 
How I run on, as if I wanted to practise essay-writing 
upon you ! 

As to a History of England for your daughter, there is 
none for anybody's daughter. Hume is still the only 
very agreeable one, and his deficiencies and partialities 
you well know. Lingard is biassed by his profession 
and religion ; and Turner is warped by systems and 
crotchets. However, they all deserve to be read, and 
out of them the careful reader may pick a history. 
What Hallani has given us, both in his " Middle Ages'" 
and his " Constitutional History," is of inestimable 
value to the student, but too deep and too technical for 
young ladies. There is a " History of Great Britain/' 



232 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



by a Dr. Andrews, a Scotchman, which I read with great 
pleasure in my youth. It is written on the plan of 
giving in separate chapters the civil history of a reign, 
then the ecclesiastical, then the history of commerce, of 
literature, of manners, &c. There is no great merit in 
the style, which is flat and commonplace, and the first 
chapter on manners is rendered strangely absurd by his 
deriving those of the ancient Caledonians from Macpher- 
son's fabulous Ossian ; but in spite of these deductions, 
it is a valuable and agreeable work for the early periods. 
It stops at either the death of Henry VIII. or the acces- 
sion of Elizabeth. I have not seen the work for years, 
and later ones, Turner's especially, may have gone deeper 
into the topics of manners and literature ; but I suspect 
it first opened my mind to those uses of history which 
produced my own works in this kind, and I therefore 
owe it a good word. 

You tell me nothing of your own plans or pursuits. I 
fear you are not coming over to England for the winter, 
as we had all been hoping — which is very shabby in you. 
We shall but just be able to forgive you should another 
report prove true, as I trust it is, that you are writing a 
book. That will be some compensation ; but indeed you 
must not give up the dear project of coming hither and 
introducing your young people to English society. Be- 
collect what you have sometimes written to me on the 
advantage of your best people coming and making them- 
selves known here. I shall make diligent inquiry after 
Bryant, whom I long to see. Poets are rare with us. 
Coleridge we have lost, and where have we his poetic 
equal ? Of which of his contemporaries can we say that 
he has written too little ? 

Will you think me outrageously sentimental if I con- 
fess to you that I have deplored even with tears the con- 
flagration of our two Houses of Parliament, rich as they 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



233 



were in historic recollections ? The name of Pym was 
still to be seen cut over the place which he occupied in 
the House of Commons, the Armada tapestry still lined 
the House of Lords. St. Stephen's Chapel was built by 
our third Edward. In the Painted Chamber James and 
Charles used to lecture their sturdy Houses of Commons 
— and all are now ashes and ruins ! We must be thank- 
ful that Westminster Hall itself did not share the same 
fate. There was great manifestation of feeling amongst 
the spectators of every rank. With all our faults as a 
nation, few of us are without a touch of filial love for Old 
England, and pride in the memory of her glories. How 
absurd to call your mob Tories ! I trust your Whigs will 
defeat them. There can be no fear of your lower classes 
not having power enough. 

With every good wish for you and yours, and particu- 
larly that you would give us the opportunity of showing 
you hospitality, 

Believe me yours with true regard, 

L. AlKIN, 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, January 5, 1835. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — How shall I begin my letter ? 
I owe you two letters, and it is a long, long time since 
I wrote you; and what is worse, I have no sufficient 
excuse for my negligence. I can only say that I have 
long been good for little or nothing. I have wanted the 
inward spring of exertion. You probably know what it 
is to be capable of passive enjoyment and nothing more. 
I have read a good deal, thought a little, relished nature 
keenly, longed to write, and written scarcely anything. 
Do not think that your letters are less welcome because 



234 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



they have failed to stir me up to answer. If you knew 
the pleasure they give, your benevolence would be motive 
enough for continuing them. 

I am just rising from a sickness of a month, which 
has been rife here under the comprehensive name of 
Influenza. In some parts of the country it has been 
mortal. Without severe suffering, I lost all my strength. 
On rising, I was driven to books of amusement, and read 
Bulwer's last novel. Perhaps my wearied head was in 
fault, but I found little in the work to take hold of me, 
except as it gave some vivid pictures of antiquity. No 
justice was done to the primitive Christian, and in this, 
as in his other works, I felt the want of life, reality, in 
the higher characters. I have heard the word " washy" 
applied to the superficial style of painting, where the 
figures have no depth, massiness, substance, and the 
epithet seems to me to suit a good deal of the fashionable 
poetry and fiction. One admirable exception I lately 
met with in Philip Van Artevelde. Here I found myself 
amidst real beings, breathing the breath of life, and, in 
spite of some affectations of style, speaking and acting 
from their own souls, and not graceful or sentimental 
puppets, through whom the author shows you his skill 
and fine thoughts. "Who is Mr. Taylor ? 

In your last you speak of your plans. As to dialogues, 
I think they may usefully be mixed with essays. A 
volume of them is somewhat hazardous. You are one 
of the few to whom I could recommend this mode of 
composition. Generally it is a failure, for it requires 
dramatic skill, spirit, life. The reader is disappointed 
when in a dialogue he finds a dissertation, the different 
sentences which are put into different mouths, but have 
nothing characteristic, nothing of the freedom and anima- 
tion of conversation. I am sure you will do well. I recol- 
lect no late colloquial writing which has interested me, 



TO MISS AIKIS. 



235 



except Southey's Dialogues on Society (Sir T. More was 
chief speaker), and in these probably the singular beau- 
ties of the style and the greatness of the subject made 
me overlook defects. Speaking of style, I have been 
struck with the superiority of the three Lake-poets, as 
they were once called, in this particular. Who of their 
contemporaries can stand by their side, especially by 
Coleridge's ? I might add to them one who seems to 
have been of their set, Lamb, in whose Elia are some 
passages exquisitely written. By the way, what do you 
think of Taylor's criticism on your admired Byron in 
Artevelde ? Byron's want of comprehensiveness and 
depth of thought is beginning to be felt. I should not 
wonder if his letters, bad and repulsive as they are in 
point of morals, should be appealed to more than his 
poems as proofs of his scope of intellect. 

I have not strength or time to write you about politics. 
So you have a Tory ministry, and under the worst cir- 
cumstances ; that is, the Whigs have fallen through 
very weakness. Perhaps a Tory ministry may be best 
for you. So much the worse. Louis Philippe's arbitrari- 
ness is said to be best for France. You can judge of a 
people's condition pretty surely by learning what is best 
for them. The amount seems to be, that your people 
have not enough of wisdom and principle, of clear-headed- 
ness and right-heartedness, to govern themselves, and the 
power has fallen to a class who are separated from them, 
want sympathy with them, and look down on them as 
inferiors, and have no sincere desire to serve them. The 
papers say that the new ministry will be liberal, &c; but 
save me from reform in the hands of its foes ! Nothing 
will be conceded but by necessity, and the concession 
will be robbed in every possible way of its significance 
and worth. The Tories have one advantage ; they have 
fixed principles, as all Conservatives have. Reformers are 



236 



TO MISS AIKIK 



necessarily unsettled in many points, and hence division, 
mistake and weakness. My principal solicitude is about 
the influence of this change on the cause of improvement 
and liberal institutions generally. I do not, however, 
despair at all. The eddy is not the current, and the 
current sets the right way. I ought to say that I have 
written the above with very little knowledge of the facts 
of the late changes. 

You interested me much by your remarks on the state 
* and prospects of religion in your country. If you will 
look at my last volume of Sermons, page 58, you will 
see in the last sentence but one a hint of what you have 
suggested as to the influence of the press on the demand 
for the Christian ministry. I have no belief, however, 
that any improvements will supersede this institution ; 
and the present low state of all classes in regard both to 
the theory and practice of religion and morals reduces 
them to great dependence on the minister. That scep- 
ticism may spread more widely is to be feared. The 
singular worldliness of this money-getting, utilitarian, 
material age, is directly hostile to the nobler sentiments, 
especially to faith. Then the old bands of authority are 
loosened, many old supports of religion are weakened, 
and the true foundations are imperfectly explored or 
made known. Then there seems no religious class 
among you to answer the needs of the time. Unitarian- 
ism was palsied at its revival by the doctrines of ma- 
terialism, necessity, &c, which Priestley associated with 
it, and its spirituality suffered from its political connec- 
tions. The other sects have given perpetuity to the 
forms of darker times. Still I see no signs of such a 
terrible shock to religious faith in your country as France 
experienced. It cannot be said of your Establishment, 
as of the Catholic religion in that country, that the 
edifice was too far gone for repair, and needed leveling 



TO DR, CHANGING. 



237 



to make way for a better. It is my earnest hope and 
trust that England is to enjoy reform in all its depart- 
ments without revolution. 

I want now to say a word about my own concerns. 
Have you any friends in Dorsetshire who can make 
inquiry whether my name is known in that county ? My 
ancestors came from Dorchester, or its neighbourhood, 
near the beginning of the last century. I have seen a 
letter written to them from Abraham Channing, a minis- 
ter, who resided, I think, at Cranbourne, north of Dor- 
chester. I have no expectation of finding an illustrious 
ancestry, and should not of myself have made this appli- 
cation ; but I have a brother who wishes to mount or 
rather descend our genealogical tree, and his conversation 
has stirred up a little my curiosity. Our coat of arms 
is three Moors' or Negros' heads. I have understood 
Mr. Canning had the same. Perhaps among my family 
in England (and I am pretty sure it is not extinct) there 
may be some antiquary, and I should like to bring him 
and my brother into connection. 

Do present my best respects to Mrs. Baillie. I am in 
debt to her as I have been to you ; but not a bankrupt 
as I hope to prove soon. I shall rejoice to hear of your 
improved health. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



To Dr. Chaining, 

Hampstead, March 10, 1835. 

Avaunt ! carpenters, bricklayers, gardeners, painters, 
and upholsterers, and let me hold converse with my 
dear distant friend ! These people whom I exorcise are 
employed, be it known to you, in preparing for my re- 



238 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



ception a house to which I hope to remove very shortly ; 
but this being Sunday, they and I enjoy a respite. It is 
no long flight, only to the opposite side of the street ; 
but it will give me, besides better rooms, a delicious 
prospect from my windows — thirty miles of varied and 
verdant country, sprinkled only with white houses, and 
bounded by the range of Surrey hills. This will be a 
new pleasure to me ; I shall scarcely feel my solitude in 
the presence of so much of nature, and I do promise my- 
self that, in the intervals of gazing through my window, 
my pen will exert itself to better purpose than here- 
tofore. 

All that you say on the subject of dialogue I think 
just. The chief advantage of that form is, not in convey- 
ing information, for which it has many inconveniences, 
but in representing discussion, and thus prompting the 
reader to exercise his own powers of reasoning and judg- 
ing. It will serve to hint subjects of inquiry which it 
may not be convenient to treat more openly ; and it may 
save a writer from hostile criticism, by enabling him to 
plead that he has represented both sides of a question 
without pronouncing for either. Call these paltry utilities 
if you please ; but amongst a people where ancient pre- 
judice is hugged by the million, the best friends of man's 
best interests may be thankful to take advantage of them. 
At present, however, I have scarcely made a beginning 
of my work ; that is, I have got only one dialogue and a 
half, and some scraps which I think will hatch into 
essays. But of this enough. I have had by me for some 
time a message for you from a Prince (but, thought I, I 
shan't write purely for that ; the republican doctor will 
laugh at me). This Prince, however, is a man of merit ; 
it is the Duke of Sussex. At a dinner which he gave 
some time since to the Fellows of the Eoyal Society, of 
which he is Presidsnt, and a few others, he beckoned to 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



239 



him my brother Arthur, to talk aside on the topic that 
he loves — religion. He spoke with delight of your ser- 
mons — said he had read every one that was printed. He 
had heard (would it were true ! ) that you were coming 
to England in the spring. " I understand/' he added, 
" that your sister corresponds often with him : tell her 
that when he comes I shall think it a great honour to be 
introduced to him." Will nothing tempt you to come to 
us ? Surely, after the illness you have had, you would 
find travelling a restorative ; and should you not like, 
" antiquam exquserere matrem/' to make your own re- 
searches in Dorsetshire ? Meantime I shall not lose 
sight of the object. 

The first time I can get sight of Joseph Hunter, of the 
Eecord Office, our first living topographer, one of our 
first genealogists, and withal a York student and Uni- 
tarian divine, I will mention the subject ; and I dare say 
he can at least inform us how information can be gotten. 
It happens that I know absolutely not a person in that 
county. But you are Cannings, you say ; and if so, I 
am afraid you must be content to take, along with the 
eminent statesman, a certain Bet Canning, who about 
the middle of last century contrived to make herself the 
talk of the whole kingdom by a well-invented tale of 
having been carried off and kept prisoner in a lone house 
near London, from which she made a marvellous escape. 
The particulars might be found in an old " Annual Ee- 
gister " if you are curious ; but perhaps you are not. I 
believe she is mentioned (either in the "World" or 
" Connoisseur " ) as the rival of a certain Mrs. Tofts, who 
professed to have brought into the world — a litter of 
rabbits. 

Talking of pedigrees, I think I never told you that I 
saw, too late for my book, one of Queen Elizabeth, kept 
at Hatfield House, and certainly drawn under the eye 



240 



TO DR, CHANGING. 



of Burleigh, in which she is traced up to a personage 
called " the second wife of Jupiter," and collaterally to no 
less a worthy than Cerberus himself; whence, no doubt, 
her habitual vigilance and occasional doggedness. 

I quite agree with you as to the prose merits of our 
Lake poets. Southey is an excellent prose man. The 
first circumstance which tended to redeem style from the 
cold regularity of the Trench school and the pedantic 
Latinism of Johnson, was the appearance of Percy's 
Keliques ; from that time, and by the help also of the 
true elucidators of Shakespeare, Steevens, Malone, &c, 
old true English has been understood and written by all 
our writers of genius. There is no better English than 
that of poor Charles Lamb — a true and original genius— 
the delight of all who knew, still more than of all who 
read him, and whom none who had once seen him — my 
own case — could ever forget. Your praise of Artevelde 
I cannot quite agree in. The energetic simplicity and 
purity of the style, indeed, I much admire, but I cannot 
say that his personages do strike or interest me greatly. 
But I may be biassed. The detestableness of everything 
relating to the depraved creature whom he has made the 
heroine of his second part — the unspeakable coarseness 
and vileness of the man who is represented as running a 
long parallel between her and the virtuous wife whom 
he has loved and lost — these things we women could not 
bear or pass over. We have made no outcry, however, 
but our silent indignation has been felt. I thought his 
criticisms on Byron able, and to a certain degree just, 
but invidious. Byron's deficiencies, however great, do 
not prevent his having in some kinds, and in some pas- 
sages, exhibited merits and beauties of the first order. 
Mr. Taylor is, I think, somewhat of a heretic in poetical 
doctrine, inasmuch as he says in company, that he holds 
Wordsworth for a much greater poet than Milton. 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



241 



Twelve years ago I saw at Dr. Holland's a man of 
tkree-and-twenty, tall, rather well-looking, with an air 
of talent, promptitude, and moderate self-confidence. 
He was the son of a clever gentleman-farmer, and just 
arrived from Northumberland to seek his fortune in 
London, bearing a letter of introduction from excellent 
Mr. Turner, of Newcastle, his father's friend. Within 
three days, Wilmot Horton, then colonial secretary, said 
to Dr. Holland, " These lords' sons do no good in our 
office ; I wish you could recommend me a young man 
who would be willing to work." The doctor mentioned 
the young Northumbrian ; he was examined, approved, 
and immediately installed in a lucrative situation, which 
he still retains — and this was Henry Taylor. He printed 
some years ago a tragedy, which had no circulation. He 
was often at Coleridge's evening parties, and long ago I 
heard of his provoking some of the company by an in- 
vidious eulogium on the Koran. They were the more 
angry because he possessed the slight advantage in argu- 
ment of being the only person present who had read the 
book. I think, or hope, that he will yet write things 
worthy of ungrudging praise ; and I much approve his 
manly style, as an antidote to the sentimental jargon of 
which we have so much ; but he must cultivate moral 
refinement, to give pleasure where he must wish to 
please. Above all, he must never again make his hero 
exclaim, " How little flattering is a woman's love ! " 

Almost two great pages without a word of politics | 
Xot that they are not the object of interest at present ; 
but what to think ! what to remark or to predict ! In 
the first place, however, I am not surprised at anything 
that has happened. I always thought it likely that the 
Tories would make some effort to reinstate themselves in 
what they have so long regarded as their birthright— the 
government of the country, with all the advantages, 

M 



242 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



privileges and emoluments thereunto belonging. Some- 
thing like treachery on the part of the King was also 
highly probable, considering the natural antagonism be- 
tween Eoyalty and Whiggism. But in all this / see 
nothing alarming. With such a House of Commons as 
the present proves itself to be, in spite of the utmost 
efforts of the Tories, who scrupled nothing of corruption, 
or intimidation either, to pack it to their minds — reforms 
we must and shall have, and effectual ones too. It is, I 
believe, not amiss that every step of amelioration should 
be won with some effort and struggle. Every reform is 
the more valued, as well as the better understood, for 
being the result and reward of long agitation. We might 
therefore afford to have patience with the reluctance of 
ministers to proceed in the road which, after all, they 
must travel, were delay the only evil of the case. But 
I confess I feel hurt at the restoration to power of a party 
which I regard as essentially that of injustice and abuse 
— a party which in its best measures must always be 
open to the reproach of acting inconsistently with its own 
principles. Surely its reign will not be long. It is 
hazardous, however, to predict in circumstances unpre- 
cedented. A ministry outvoted in the Lower House, 
and an opposition outvoted in the Upper, is a new 
dilemma in the history of our mixed constitution. It 
is the opinion of wise men and friends of religious as 
well as civil liberty, that great part of all the reaction 
that there has been against reform has arisen from the 
rash declarations of certain classes of Dissenters against 
an Established Church. They egregiously miscalculated 
their strength if they supposed that the Church could, 
yet at least, be outvoted, and the natural result of their 
vehemence has been that of rousing the clergy to tenfold 
fierceness against all sectaries and all liberals. There 
may be some chance, however, that ultimately the sacred 



TO DR. CHANXING. 



243 



order will find itself to have sustained irreparable injury, 
in lay opinion, by the exhibitions of its temper, and its 
maxims which have thus been drawn forth. I stand by 
my belief, that no form of religion in this country is 
extending, if preserving its authority over the minds of 
men. 

You may be interested to hear that Brougham, like 
Cicero in his banishment, flies for support under poli- 
tical disappointments to the study of philosophy. He 
wrote the other day to an old and respected friend of his 
and mine, to send him the works of Tucker, the answer 
printed, but not published, by Mill to Mackintosh's 
attack on Bentham, and several other books on ethical 
subjects. Will you charge yourself with my cordial 
thanks to Dr. Tuckerman for his ordination sermon and 
his pamphlet, from which I am glad to learn that his 
noble experiment proceeds and prospers ? Your charge 
has very much delighted us all. One point, however, I 
want to discuss with you. It is the opinion given by 
both you and Dr. T., that, as well with you as in Europe, 
it is the tendency of modern improvements to increase 
the distance between the upper and lower classes. Now, 
with respect to your own country, it seems to stand to 
reason that it must be so ; because you are beginning, 
and but beginning, to have a class horn rich, and also be- 
cause parts of your country are become densely peopled, 
and of course the wages of labour no longer there bear 
the same high proportion to the necessaries of life. But 
I doubt whether there is this tendency in any of the 
kingdoms of Europe, and here I discern more signs of 
an opposite one. I grant, indeed, that in some districts 
over-population, combined with neglect of the whole- 
some old law that no cottage should be built without a 
considerable garden attached, has depressed the condi- 
tion of the agricultural labourer; but this effect is partial, 

M 2 



244 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



and affects only the cultivators. In towns, wages were 
never, I believe, so high in proportion to the price of the 
articles of consumption ; and never was education so 
widely diffused, never were the people so experimentally 
convinced of the great truth that knowledge is power. 
On the other hand, several circumstances have combined 
to bring down our aristocracy. The depressed state of 
agriculture has shorn down their incomes so low, that to 
pay the interest of their mortgages is more than most of 
them know how to compass. The Eeform Bill has de- 
prived them of the great resources in money and prefer- 
ments, civil and ecclesiastical, which they used to derive 
from their borough interests, and places and sinecures 
are much diminished. In the mercantile class it is cer- 
tain that much fewer great fortunes, and many more 
moderate ones, are made by trade now than some years 
ago. I throw out these hints hastily, but you will know 
how to put them together. I must now conclude. 

Ever yours most truly, 

L. AlKIN. 



To Dr. Channing. 

London, May 13, 1835. 

My dear Friend, — Mr. Phillips shall not return to you 
without at least a few lines from me, and I take up the 
pen in London, and amid many distractions. 

See if I was not right ! The Tories are out again. The 
will of the King put them in, the will of the House of 
Commons has nevertheless turned them out. Still our 
state is not altogether satisfactory; it is evident that 
severe and perhaps dangerous party struggles await us. 
I wanted to tell you — but when I wrote last had little 
heart to mention politics at all — that I think you simplify 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



245 



too much in your views of our state. It seems that you 
think we have but two parties — that of reform and that 
of abuse; but we have twenty, besides infinite shades 
of opinion, and there are pure patriots and corrupt and 
selfish designers in all. You will perceive that this 
must be so, when you consider that now, as in the days 
of the Stuarts, religion, or at least theology, mftigles in 
the fray, and sects make factions. More to embroil the 
scene, we have persons who desire reform in the Church 
and not in the State — the case of numbers of the Evan- 
gelicals ; others, ultra-radicals, who in new-modelling 
the State would destroy the Church. The champions of 
civil liberty are compelled to fraternize with rank Irish 
Papists, who have perhaps for their ultimate object the 
separation of their country from ours, and the establish- 
ment of their own Church. These are but a few of the 
perplexing combinations of elements naturally discordant 
which we see taking place around us. There is much in 
our moral world to remind one of the old theory of the 
formation of the physical world by a dance of atoms and 
their fortuitous concourse ; but as yet we have not risen 
out of chaos — the order and beauty are all to come. I 
found the other day in that most original work, Tucker's 
" Light of Nature/' the startling remark, that few people 
know what their own real opinions are ; and I have since 
felt the truth of it, by reflecting on the hackivard and 
fomvard talking of almost all one's acquaintance — ex- 
cepting those who have tangible interests involved in 
questions at issue. One day you find a man a decided 
Eeformer, the next day he becomes Conservative, then 
he appears fixed in Whiggisni — till the next turning of 
the vane. Now the love of novelty, now the force of 
old associations, becomes predominant. Hope, fear, and 
memory play their busy part, and fixed principles are 
found scarcely anywhere. I speak the more feelingly 



246 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



on this head because the case is very much my own. 
The ultras of all the parties inspire me with repugnance, 
and perhaps fear ; but there is a wide middle space 
which with me is land debatable, and through which I 
pick out an uncertain course. In theory I find it im- 
possible to controvert the principle, that the will of the 
majority ought to prevail; but when I reflect on the 
blindness, the ignorance, the gross selfishness of that 
majority — that headlong multitude- — I cannot but wish 
that it would be content to submit to the guidance of a 
wise and disinterested few ; but then how are these few 
to be discovered and invested with power, and how are 
they to be preserved from being corrupted by it ? 

After all, I believe our people are improving in know- 
ledge and in virtue under the discipline of these struggles, 
and this ought to reconcile our minds to the inevitable 
evils attending them. 

Eead, pray read, Wordsworth's new volume of poems. 
You will there see how the dread of innovation has acted 
on a mind of no ordinary powers of reflection, not warped 
either by any immediate self-interest, but perhaps we 
may say, dominated by poetical associations with old 
castles, cathedral service, and village steeples. As a 
poet, I think he rather advances than declines ; for 
though not a few of his new pieces appear to me failures, 
none of them have the puerility into which he used so 
often to fall, and there are some which I esteem of sur- 
passing excellence. What a treasure of original thoughts, 
and sublime and touching imagery, and exquisite har- 
monies, is his ode " On the Power of Sound " ! 

Montgomery has likewise given us a new volume. It 
has some very striking narrative poems and many fine 
stanzas ; but how is his strain marred by his devoted- 
ness to a monstrous system of religion ! I cannot easily 
understand how a mind so benevolent as his should have 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



247 



found the peace lie says lie has under his tremendous 
belief; but is it not true that there are some secret con- 
trivances by which the worthy mind escapes from the 
consequences of shocking theories which it believes itself 
to admit, and thus secures the serenity which is virtue's 
right ? Thanks for your sermon on War. I am not suffi- 
ciently informed of the facts of the case in your dispute 
with the French to be able fully to appreciate the weight 
of your arguments ; but I trust that, after all, your Presi- 
dent will not find it necessary to carry his threats into 
execution. I believe the genius of civilized nations is 
becoming less and less warlike. 

Last night I saw Mr. Hunter, and asked how we could 
get any answer to your inquiries respecting your family. 
He said that he thought it very likely Channings were 
Cannings, and that the only gentle Cannings whom the 
heralds had been able to discover were seated in Oxford- 
shire — that George Canning's Irish family was perhaps a 
branch of it. If the Dorsetshire Channings were people 
of a certain consequence, some notice of them might be 
extant in Hutchins's " History of Dorsetshire " — if not, 
the only course would be to make inquiries of some 
Cranbourne person, if the name was still known there. 
But I think yet I shall be able to find something out by 
other means. 

I must here bring my epistle to a conclusion. 

Ever most truly yours, 

L. AlKIK 



To Miss Aikin. 

June 22, 1835. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — So you are building a house ! 
By what sympathy is it that we are carrying on the 



248 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



same work at once ? I hope, however, your practical 
wisdom has kept you from my error. My house threatens 
to swell beyond my means, so that I cannot think of it 
with a perfectly quiet conscience. This is the only point 
on which I am in danger of extravagance. I spend 
nothing on luxuries, amusements, show. My food is 
the simplest. My clothes sometimes call for rebuke 
from an affectionate wife, not for want of neatness, but 
for their venerable age. But one indulgence I want, a 
good house, open to the sun and air, with apartments 
large enough for breathing freely, and commanding some- 
thing of earth and sky. A friend of mine repeated to 
me the saying of a child, " Mother, the country has more 
sky than the town/' Now I want "more sky" than 
other folks, and my house, though in a city, gives me a 
fine sweep of prospect, and an air almost as free as the 
country. I do not, however, suffer even a house to be 
an essential. When I think of Him who had not where 
to lay his head, and of the millions of fellow-creatures 
living in outward and inward destitution, I feel doubts 
and misgivings in enjoying the many accommodations 
which respectability is thought to require. Alas ! to a 
Christian, to one who hungers and thirsts after moral 
excellence, what perplexities and obstructions are offered 
by the present condition of society ! How hard to realize 
our conceptions of disinterested virtue ! How the fetters 
of custom, forged by a self-indulgent world, weigh on 
us, and enthral the purer and more generous feelings ! 
Were I entering on life, instead of approaching its end ? 
with my present views and feelings and with no ties, I 
should strive for a condition which, without severing me 
from society, would leave me more free to act from my 
own spirit, to follow faithfully and uncompromisingly 
the highest manifestations of virtue made to my mind, 
I mean not, however, to repine. I have not been wholly 



TO MISS AXKIN. 



249 



a slave to outward and inferior influences, and there is a 
world of true, perfect freedom. You hope much aid to 
your intellect from the beautiful prospect your new house 
is to give you. Do not be too confident. The intellect, 
in the common sense of the word, may be aided less than 
the imagination and the heart. I am now spending the 
summer in the country, and I find myself lured per- 
petually from my books and papers, to saunter among 
the shrubbery, to listen to the wind among the branches, 
to enjoy flowers whose names I cannot remember, to let 
the affections rise or expand at will. I begin to think 
there is more wisdom in these affections than in much 
wdiieh passes for philosophy ; but perhaps you have not 
lived long enough to learn this, and may blame your 
beautiful prospect for troubling the intellect Let me in- 
tercede for the prospect. In the end you will write better 
books for it. Your house has filled so much of my letter, 
that I can answer little to its other topics. I am indeed 
grateful for the attention with which the Duke of Sussex 
has honoured me, and, were I thinking of a visit to En- 
gland, I should anticipate an introduction to him among 
my pleasures and privileges. Let me say, however, that 
your testimony to his character gave me much more 
pleasure than his message. I had often heard before of 
the liberality of his sentiments ; but the truth is, that 
the reputation of your Eoyal Family, as respects morals, 
is so low in this country, that we have never felt as if 
any class of Christians were aided by their sympathy or 
patronage. I rejoice to learn that the Duke of Sussex is 
so esteemed, as your letter implies. I love to think well 
of one who is pledged to principles which I hold sacred 
and dear. I cannot gainsay your criticism on Van Arte- 
velde. The truth is, I read the second part in great 
haste and at odd moments, and spent no thought on it. 
I was offended by the scene you refer to, but am not 



250 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



sure that it is untrue. As far as my recollection goes, 
this part was intended to show the sad process of a mind, 
originally reserved, unbending and self-relying, yielding 
itself to the corrupting influences of the passion for 
power, of victory and empire; and the question is, 
whether, in such a case, tender recollections of a holy 
love may not mix with the encroachments of criminal 
passion ? The style of the book is often encumbered by 
an affectation of archaisms, &c. 

As to politics, what shall I say ? Your letter was 
written during the reign of Toryism (how happened it to 
have so long a voyage ? ), and I know not in what con- 
dition this letter will find you. I am almost discouraged 
from writing on this subject by an increasing conviction 
of the difficulty of understanding a foreign country. I 
receive different, opposite opinions, even from your own 
people who visit me ; and the fact that my own country 
is so misapprehended by strangers makes me distrustful 
of myself. I have been struck of late with the disposi- 
tion manifested throughout Europe to throw the blame 
of all that is evil in this country on our free institutions, 
as if freedom were the only element of our social con- 
dition. The truth is, that freedom, at this moment par- 
ticularly, has less influence than other peculiarities in 
our State. Our most striking peculiarity is that we are 
a young people, bringing all the powers of an advanced 
civilization, and very singular energies of industry and 
enterprize, to bear on a new country of inexhaustible 
resources. Every day discloses to us a new mine of 
wealth. In addition to our capital, which has increased 
immensely, foreign capital is pouring in, and opportunities 
of profitable investment seem to increase in still greater,, 
proportion. The consequence you can easily conceive. 
The minds of the people are intoxicated with a stimulant 
which human nature has never yet been strong enough 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



251 



to resist. The spirit of speculation, the passion for un- 
bounded accumulation, rages among us. We think very 
little about politics compared with " public improve- 
ments/' as they are called, new applications of steam, 
railroads, new settlements in the " far West/' &c, &c. 
In such a state of things no man has a fixed position. 
Hardly any man has the strong local feelings of older 
countries. A mighty stream of population, bearing away 
our adventurous youth, is setting westward. Journeys 
of five hundred or a thousand miles are amusements to 
us. The imagination is at work continually on the dis- 
tant and vast. The consequence is, a very vigorous but 
very partial development of human nature. We under- 
stand positive material interests better than any other 
people. We already surpass you in manufacturing in- 
genuity, and a British vessel cannot easily get freight 
when an American one is the competitor. But the result 
of this infinite external activity is, that the inward, 
spiritual, higher interests of humanity are little com- 
prehended, prized or sought. We surpass even England in 
worldly utilitarianism. The worth of the higher intellec- 
tual and moral culture, of arts and studies which refine and 
elevate, is not felt as it should be ; but this has nothing 
to do with our freedom, or is not to be charged on our 
free institutions. It is a remarkable fact that, with all 
this worldly activity, there is a higher standard of morals 
among us than anywhere else. My personal observation 
is indeed confined very much to Boston. I have seen 
the population of that place quadrupled, and its wealth 
multiplied in vastly greater proportion, and I am con- 
fident that there has been a decided advance in religion, 
philanthropy, and general virtue, as well as in intelli- 
gence. I fear that the same praise cannot be given to 
the other large cities, for they have been overflowed by 
emigrants, particularly from Ireland, and have wanted 



252 



TO MISS AIKIK 



our means of education. Still when I consider the ten- 
dency of our peculiar situation to unsettle and materialize 
the minds of men, I wonder that our moral condition is 
as sound as it is, and I see in it a much stronger argu- 
ment for than against free institutions. To those w T ho 
measure institutions by prosperity, ours must be the very 
best ever devised, for never were people so prosperous. 
For myself, I would we were less prosperous. Our free- 
dom and glory are endangered by our rapid .growth, 
especially by our growth from abroad. Our foreign popu- 
lation is becoming a great evil. Our fathers, never dream- 
ing of what has taken place, and wishing to make our 
country " an asylum for oppressed humanity," began with 
granting the rights of citizenship on too easy terms, and 
we have gone on from bad to worse, until the elective 
franchise is lavished on ignorant hordes from Europe 
who cannot but abuse it. This profanation of so high a 
privilege moves my indignation. But I must stop. I 
determined when I began to confine myself to a sheet, 
but on some topics I do not know when to stop. You 
misunderstood me when you supposed me to say that 
our present civilization increases the distance between 
the higher and lower classes generally. I said that it 
creates a more degrading pauperism. Write me often 
and fully. Are not complete editions of Coleridge and 
Lamb expected ? 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Changing. 

P.S. — I intended to say that I do not despair on account 
of the material tendencies of my countrymen. Perhaps 
it is well that human nature should work itself out 
fairly in one direction. It is too noble and various to 
work always in one way. A higher activity is to take 
place here, though perhaps not in my day. 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



253 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hainpstead, September 13, 1835. 

My dear Friend, — Your welcome and long-expected 
letter arrived a few days since, just as I had begun one 
to inquire what had occasioned so long a suspension of 
our correspondence. I cannot account for the long delay 
of mine, unless by the supposition that it must have 
waited long at Dr. Boott's for an opportunity of sending 
it. I have certainly written you one since— by Mr. 
Phillips, surely — which I hope you have received. En- 
glish and American will, I suppose, in process of time, 
become distinct languages, at least as to familiar idioms. 
When I told you that the workmen were preparing a new 
house for me, you understood that I was building one : 
an Englishman would have understood only that I was 
changing my house — which was the fact. My present 
dwelling would be regarded as a venerable relic of anti- 
quity in your country. I dare say it has much more 
than a century on its head, though it is still strong and 
in good condition. Thanks to the remission of taxes 
since the Eeform Bill, and of rates since the amendment 
of the poor-laws, I have now a much better house than 
formerly for about the same money. Pray do not grudge 
yourself your, healthful, exhilarating, only luxury. I 
know how deeply you both understand and feel the 
claims of the poor on their more prosperous brethren ; 
the beautiful sermon you last sent me is a striking proof 
of it ; but depend upon it you are doing more for them, 
and for the world at large, by keeping yourself in spirits 
and vigour, than by any amount of money you could 
bestow in deeds of charity ; not to mention that by 
giving employment to the industrious, we are often 
putting money to its most philanthropic use. You 



254 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



lament the fetters placed by custom upon the free ener- 
gies of virtue, and most assuredly there are those whose 
own sense of the good and the beautiful would far excel 
any agency from without, both as motive and restraint. 
But are not those fitted, as well as " content to dwell in 
decencies for ever/'— that is, the mass of mankind — the 
better, do you think, for the habit of submitting to re- 
straint ? If they had more free-agency, would they not 
rather stray into absurdity, or lose themselves in reck- 
lessness, than rise to any higher notions of excellence ? 
But in how many different forms are the questions con- 
tinually recurring — When to take off the leading-strings 
or ivhen to remove the fetters ? All the questions of in- 
ternal policy which have been and are still shaking our 
State to its very foundations, may be resolved into these ; 
and even where the restraint is one which has most mani- 
festly originated in nothing but the prevalence of might 
over right, it is often held a point for grave considera- 
tion, how speedily or how entirely it is wise to take it 
off. With us there are many who hold that the " Volun- 
tary Church system," though best in itself, would not 
yet be best for the English people. Our Tories were loth 
to allow that Dissenters, Papists, Irishmen, and negro 
slaves, ought yet to be free from their wholesome restric- 
tions, and the other day our House of Lords decided that 
a few links of chain ought still to remain around town 
councils. At the bottom of my heart I have a persuasion 
that the generous and especially the disinterested are the 
advocates of the earliest and the most complete emanci- 
pation ; and my sympathies go with them ; but then the 
alarmists and the weighers of expediency come round one 
with so many plausibilities, that I often, on particular 
points, become staggered at least, and, if not convinced, 
I am silenced. With respect to our country, however, 
I am entirely of opinion that the when is the only 



TO DR. CHAXXING. 



255 



question. The popular cause has already gained vic- 
tories which must lead to further and full success ; un- 
less, indeed, the Eeformers should offend the characteristic 
moderation and prudence of the nation by some strange 
ebullitions — hardly to be apprehended. The detection 
of this widely-spread conspiracy to overpower a reformed 
ministry and liberal House of Commons, on the part 
of the Orange Association, headed by that disgrace to 
human nature, the Duke of Cumberland — shared in by 
many principal Tory peers, and diffused widely through 
every rank in the army — is in every way a fortunate 
event. Its result must be, I think, to bring upon its 
knees to the people a faction which might have continued 
to be very formidable, had it not rendered itself detest- 
able, and by its dark machinations brought itself within 
the danger of the laws. There can be no doubt that 
Cumberland's aim was to make himself the head of a 
party strong enough to place him on the throne, to the 
exclusion of his niece — a mad design indeed, unless he 
believed the whole people to be enamoured of the cha- 
racter of Caligula. He has been driven from the country, 
never, I trust, to pollute its soil again, and his principal 
abettors will not, I suppose, choose to abide the proceed- 
ings of the attorney-general. These are strange events, 
and of absorbing interest to those before whose eyes they 
pass. 

You have well traced out to me the circumstances 
which are exerting the chief influence at present over 
your national character. ISTo ! with you politics cannot 
now be the ruling interest. Tour fathers have won for 
you the unmolested enjoyment of the greatest inherit- 
ance upon earth ; you have now to explore, improve, 
and enjoy it. You are destined to the good and the ill 
of a state of unexampled prosperity — unless the slave 
question be preparing a division of your federal union, 



256 



TO DR. CHANNESTGL 



with all the formidable results which would plainly be 
inevitable. To adjust the balance of moral good and 
evil in the causes which act largely on the character 
and manners of a nation, is probably a task beyond 
human power. All that the most enlightened philan- 
thropy can perhaps wisely attempt, is to lean against 
the prevalent vices of the time, and cherish its vir- 
tues. At all times, in all countries advanced in the 
arts of life, there must be abundant scope for the 
preacher or the philosopher to cry aloud, " Be not con- 
formed to the world be not immersed in matter ; for- 
get not the invisible, which alone is real and permanent! 
Long has your voice been heard, and much longer may 
it yet be heard, sounding these great warnings in the 
ears of men, and impressing on their hearts truths of 
the highest ord'er ! For myself, all my exertions are 
confined to the forming of projects destined very pro- 
bably never to be executed. During several months I 
have found myself in a state of langour which reminded 
me of the knight, in I forget what tale of chivalry, who 
had drunk unwittingly of the unnerving fountain, and 
lay stretched upon the grass, lost to all deeds or even 
thoughts of " chivalrous eniprize," and unable to lift the 
spear or sustain the burden of his crested helm. I as- 
cribe this listlessness partly to a very weak state of 
health, aggravated by the unusual heat of the season, 
which is now happily abated, and partly to the deep 
impression made upon my spirits by very melancholy 
circumstances affecting those whom I dearly love. I 

think I must have mentioned before that Mr. was 

tried by severe sickness in his family. He has now two 
lovely daughters in confirmed declines, and one of them 
in the very last stage of this dreadful and hopeless dis- 
ease. This last sweet creature, who has just attained 
the age of one-and-twenty, has one of the noblest yet 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 



257 



softest minds I have known — one of the finest, purest 
and least earthly spirits. She long suffered her father 
and sisters to believe that she was ignorant of her 
state : at length she confessed that for months she had 
been fully aware of its hopelessness, and since that 
avowal she has at once wrung their hearts with grief, 
and warmed them with admiration by a bright manifes- 
tation of the treasures of her soul. " In observing the 
state of her mind/ 5 wrote her father to me, "I rejoice 
with trembling : the question constantly recurring to 
me — Is it possible this can hold out to the end ? Such 
firm composure — such a calm contemplation of her ap- 
proaching departure — such confiding trust in the power 
and fatherly goodness of God — all this is more than 
could be anticipated even from her/' In this situation, 
which has now endured about three months, your writ- 
ings have been her constant solace and support. Every- 
thing I had of yours, which she was not before acquainted 
with, I have sent to her. Her father's last account, 
too, has this passage : " She said yesterday she should 
have liked to be under the observation of Dr. Ohanning, 
and speculated upon the nature of the advice he would 
have pressed upon her in her present state : whether he 
would not have considered her impatient under her trial 
— not sufficiently disposed to bear, as well as to do, the 
will of God." I had written to her, that you were full 
of cheerful views under a dangerous illness some time 
since, and she begged I would send her an extract from 
a letter of yours describing your feelings. This account 
I could not forbear giving you. Poor will be re- 
leased, in all human probability, long before this letter 
can reach you, or I should have asked some little mes- 
sage for her ; but perhaps you will give me a few words 
in your next for the heart-broken father and his other 
dear sufferer, also of a most angelic sweetness and good- 



258 



TO DR. CHANNXNG. 



ness, and quite devoted to the service of the sister still 
more oppressed with illness than herself. But let me 
quit this melancholy subject. — You have read, or you 
must read, " Mackintosh's Memoirs " by his son (not the 
Life prefixed to his historic fragment). It will certainly 
interest you in many ways, though I think you will 
agree with me that the impression on the whole is rather 
a painful one. Mackintosh, with all the ambition of his 
countrymen, had neither the frugality nor the steady 
industry by means of which a Scotchman usually climbs 
to fortune or to power. I am inclined also to believe 
that his abilities were overrated, or at least wrongly 
rated, by himself and many of his friends, especially in 
the beginning of his career. Hence his life offers the 
history of little else than abortive attempts and half- 
executed designs. The wide range of his reading, the 
promptness as well as the accuracy of his memory, and 
his power of just and sententious remark, gave so much 
power to his conversation — rendering it, in fact, so like 
a clever book — that the hearer involuntarily gave him 
credit for more than he in fact possessed of the powers 
of a fine writer ; as a debater in Parliament he had no 
talent, and even his set speeches were delivered to half- 
empty benches. His highest efforts, in whatever line, 
went just so far as to prove that he was all but a man 
of genius. He had attained self-knowledge when he 
said that his true vocation was that of a professor in a 
college ; but to this his ambition and his passion for 
shining in London society made him disdain to confine 
himself. Coleridge's " Table-Talk " is full of strange and 
rash opinions. I believe it to be neither an impartial 
nor an intelligent report of his sentiments — and yet a 
man with his habits might often talk wildly enough : 
you will find the book worth looking through, however. 
The second volume improves upon the first, and some 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



259 



of the literary remarks seem to me both fine and just. 
If I find myself gaining strength and able to write with- 
out great fatigue, I will not neglect your kind request to 
write often and fully. 

I have not yet seen the Ticknors, but am to do so on 
their return to London next month. 

Ever believe me, with the greatest truth, 

Your obliged and affectionate friend, 

L. Aikdt. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, January 17, 1836, 

My dear Friend, — I will not wait for your acknow- 
ledgment of my last letter to write again, knowing by 
experience how long my letters, committed by Dr. Boott 
to private hands, have often been in reaching you, and 
more than suspecting by your silence respecting them, 
that two or three have never reached you 

In literature, by much the most considerable publica- 
tion since I wrote last is J oanna Baillie's three volumes 
of dramas, which you will no doubt see. She tells me 
that her own favourite is " Witchcraft/' and I think 
that it perhaps goes deeper into human nature than any 
of the rest. But I nevertheless prefer her tragedies in 
verse, and " Henriquez," and still more " Separation/' 
charms me. All these new dramas being of the domestic 
kind, necessarily fall short of the majesty of "Ethel- 
wald " and of " Constantine/' but I think they have as 
much or more of pathos than her former ones, and not 
less of poetry ; and in the arrangement of the plots and 
other points of dramatic skill, she has improved very 
considerably. To those who know her well, the value 
of all she writes is incalculably increased by its afford- 



260 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



ing so perfect an image of her own pure, benignant and 
ingenuous spirit. Her character, more, I think, than 
any I have ever known, deserves to be called a heavenly 
one ; and when I think of it in conjunction with her 
rare genius, I can scarcely help regarding her as a being 
of a higher order. 

Never in my life has reading been so 'constantly, 
almost so incessantly, the business of my life. My 
state of health confines me very much to the house ; of 
society I have but little ; yet the time very seldom in- 
deed hangs heavy, for I can always lose myself in a 
book. My pen is seldom in use ; I am too much cut 
off from opportunities of informing myself by conver- 
sation, too unable to run about in search of documents, 
to pursue any kind of historical inquiries, and it is but 
now and then that a subject for a brief essay or dialogue 
occurs to me. Perhaps indolence grows upon me ; it is 
the natural companion of a monotonous and solitary life, 
in temperaments not irritable and not enthusiastic ; and 
unless improving health should hereafter enable me, as 
I am still in hopes it may, to apply the stimulus of 
change of scene and company, I believe I must be con- 
tent to allow myself to be numbered with those that 
were, by all but a few dear friends and relations. You 
will find me but a dull correspondent, I fear — but a very 
grateful one ever for the pleasure and the benefit of your 
letters. I will trust mine no more to the precariousness 
of private hands, for I am quite sure that several proofs 
of my punctuality, if of nothing more valuable, have 
not reached you. 

You have sometimes been inclined, I think, to re- 
proach us with the miserable state of a large portion of 
our population, especially the congregated poor of our 
cities. I am happy to acquaint you that this great evil 
is rapidly diminishing. Never were manufactures, arts 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



261 



and commerce in such a state of activity amongst us. 
An extraordinary impulse seems to have been given to 
everything ; whence derived in the first instance, I know 
not. Manchester daily puffs forth fresh volumes of black 
smoke from more and more huge steam-engines. She 
invites all agricultural labourers who want work to 
come to her, and sets them down instantly to spin and 
to weave. Norwich, which I have known from my 
childhood as the melancholy seat of decaying manufac- 
tures and redundant population, has not now one able- 
bodied man on the parish books, and twice within six 
months the doors of her empty jail have stood wide 
open, for forty-eight hours each time. Our new Poor- 
laws have happily co-operated with this state of things 
to raise the moral tone amongst the poor, by compelling 
them to rely more on their own exertions. With the 
outward prosperity of this class, there can be no doubt 
that their desire of giving school-learning to their chil- 
dren will go on increasing. The difficulties of esta- 
blishing a national system of education I believe to be 
insurmountable in this country of religious divisions ; 
but I think the object is likely to be on the whole 
better accomplished by the efforts of the labouring 
classes themselves, aided by the voluntary exertions of 
the benevolent and enlightened working on their own 
plans and within the limits of their respective religious 
societies. I apprehend that some kind of parish provi- 
sion for the wretched poor of Ireland will be established 
in the coming session of Parliament ; but there, also, 
religious divisions formidably obstruct almost every 
plan for the general benefit. There is, and must be in 
a Protestant Government, a reluctance to entrust large 
funds for the support of the poor to the management of 
the ignorant and bigoted and furious popish priests of 
Ireland; yet they are indisputably bett— acquainted 



262 



TO DR. CHANNIMx. 



with the necessities of the people than any other per- 
sons, and the want of a middle class, consisting of sub- 
stantial farmers and decent tradesmen, in almost all the 
agricultural districts, seems to point them out as the 
only qualified dispensers of parish relief. I like to state 
to you such facts as these, that you may not underrate 
the difficulties or the efforts of our statesmen, amongst 
whom I believe that there is at* present much wisdom 
and a very pure love of the public good. In a new 
country, or under a despotism, a general system may be 
laid down and carried into effect with little or no modi- 
fication; but here, hampered by ancient usages and 
inveterate prejudices amongst the people, compelled on 
all sides to respect vested rights, and yield to powers of 
resistance in bodies and in individuals, an administra- 
tion can do no more than apply partial remedies to 
inconveniences, and carry plans and principles into a 
modified and restricted execution. There is, however, 
this great compensating advantage, that no changes can 
be made by any other power than that of public opinion, 
deliberately formed and strongly pronounced ; and that 
a habit of discussion is thus formed and preserved, by 
which one cannot but hope that much truth important 
to human happiness will continue to be elicited, espe- 
cially as reasonings on practical questions of govern- 
ment and political economy are here continually made 
the subject of actual experiment. 

We have all been sympathizing with the sufferers in 
the conflagration at New York, one of the greatest, I 
should think, within memory, and we have felt for them 
the more, on account of the spirit and energy with 
which they have set themselves to repair their losses by 
their own exertions, which have been surely admirable, 
and quite in accordance with your national character. 

Winter is dealing rather severely with us, and I fear 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



263 



with yon likewise. I shall be happy to learn that you 
have not been a sufferer in health by it. 

Pray believe me ever yours most truly, 

L. Aikin. 



To Miss Aires'. 

Boston, March 12, 1336. 

My clear Miss Aikin, — I received to-day your letter 
of January 17, and I cannot let the day pass without 
answering it. You fear that your letters have not been 
received, but it is not so. They came in due time, and 
the blame of my silence lies wholly on myself. I hope 
you will not visit my offence severely. I told you long 
ago how prone I have always been to remissness as a 
correspondent. My faithfulness in this respect towards 
you has been remarkable. Let this plead for me. My 
late negligence is not to be ascribed to any want of 
strength, but to the reverse, I have been uncommonly 
well since the beginning of the last summer, and the 
consequence has been an increased activity. A European 
student would smile at what it amounts to. Still it has 
been enough to weary me and to lead me to postpone 
letter-writing. This is a poor excuse, and you deserve a 
better return for your letters. They always give me 
much to interest me, and I thank you for continuing 
them. Your last was particularly gratifying by the 
accounts it contained of your national prosperity. I 
wish I could look as favourably on our own. Your pro- 
sperity brings relief to suffering multitudes. Ours mul- 
tiplies comforts and luxuries to those who were well off 
before, and who have always had the means of improve- 
ment. The present effect here is a kind of intoxication, 
a wildness of enterprise, a more intense worldliness : not 



264 



TO MISS AXKIN. 



that I incline to take dark views of the present. I re- 
joice to see that the infinite activity of our times is not 
all wasted in inferior interests. There are good powers 
at work, better views of the uses of wealth, generous 
hopes for the race, generous spirits willing to be spent 
for it. I do not respond to the croakers who see nothing 
but germs of revolution, convulsions, in the present rest- 
lessness of society. Property is everywhere a conser- 
vative principle ; and when I see the multitude every- 
where seeking this by industry, I have no great fears of 
general confusion. To be sure, this is not relying on 
a very generous sentiment ; but, you know, the ballast 
which keeps the vessel steady is of little worth ; and we 
must keep her steady some way or other, or the more 
spiritual forces which carry her forward would soon 
make a wreck of her. There is more of rhetoric than 
logic perhaps in this illustration, and I do not mean that 
I would admit base principle even to keep the State 
steady. The truth is, that with much excess there is 
also much well-considered self-interest in the present 
pursuit of property, and this is legitimate ballast. 

Mrs. Baillie's plays have not reached me yet. I look 
forward to them as a great pleasure. I believe all you 
tell me of the beauty of her character. My friends whom 
I introduce to her return with delightful recollections. 
I felt she took some hazard to her peace in publishing a 
work so late in life, and your account of the work is very 
gratifying, as showing that she will not suffer from 
severity of criticism. I trust her last labour is to be 
reviewed with a respect and grateful approbation which 
will cheer her declining years. 

Your friend Miss Martineau has spent some time in 
Boston, and found a hearty welcome. I am sorry that 
she is here at an evil time. The country is agitated by 
the question of Slavery, and I have never known our 



TO MISS AIKEST. 



265 



society present a worse aspect. Miss M. has mixed her- 
self up a little with the controversy, that is, she has ex- 
pressed very strongly her sympathy with the party called 
Abolitionists, who have contrived to arm against them- 
selves not only the fury of the South, but the prejudices 
of the North. Still I hope she will not complain of us 
as inhospitable, though in some instances she has been 
treated rudely in the papers. Her sincerity and moral 
independence secure respect even where her opinions are 
not approved. 

I am reading a French book on moral science which 
interests me much — " Cours cle Droit Naturel/' by Jouf- 
froy. I am struck with his intimate acquaintance with 
the English schools of moral philosophy. The French 
have great merit as expositors of philosophical systems, 
and I hope through them at last to understand the phi- 
losophy of Germany. It is a striking fact that the 
disinterested character of morality is more insisted on 
in France and Germany than in England. I welcome 
every sign of a sound and elevated philosophy on the 
continent. 

We thank England for her disposition to preserve 
peace between this country and France. Every year of 
peace seems to me a great gain to the cause of humanity; 
for peace is not now what it used to be, a mere truce, a 
time to sharpen the sword for new conflicts, but it is 
multiplying continually friendly relations, complicating 
the interests of nations, establishing new means of inter- 
course, increasing the necessity of peace. Let war be 
kept off somewhat longer, and a weight of opinion and 
interest against it, such as has never been known and 
cannot easily be withstood, will be the result. This 
good comes from the spirit of commerce. 

I hope to hear a better account of your health. Give- 
lS 



266 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



yourself repose ; I will ensure you against habits of in- 
dolence. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 
Miss Martineau sends her kind regards. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, May 10th, 1836. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I have had no answer to my 
last letter, but wish to expiate my long silence by writing 
without such a motive. I think I told you in my last 
that we had enjoyed Miss Martineau's society. She 
makes firm friends wherever she goes. No stranger was 
ever domesticated in so many families among us, and 
she has inspired confidence and attachment wherever she 
has been, and it is creditable to both parties that this 
kindly intercourse has in no case been interrupted, as 
far as I can learn, by the great frankness with which she 
gives out" her whole mind. She has made some enemies 
by taking an open part in the Slavery question which 
is now agitated here, but alienated no friends. We feel 
that her deafness is a great obstacle to a just estimate of 
persons and things here ; but should she write about us 
and give false views, we shall know that she has not 
erred from want of kindness or of reverence for the truth. 
I am more and more satisfied that one people cannot be 
made known to another by travellers. The traveller gets 
half-truths at best. He is struck most, not by what 
reveals most a nation's mind and heart, but by what con- 
trasts most strongly with his own manners and habits of 
thought. A traveller helps the people of whom he writes 
to understand themselves better by showing how they 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



267 



differ from others, and by an analogous process lie comes 
to understand his own country better ; but he is a poor 
mediator between the two. A nation's history and lite- 
rature are its best interpreters. 

Speaking of travellers, I have amused myself with 
looking over Mrs. Troilope's Paris. She is certainly 
clever at observing the surface, but, like other superficial 
book-makers, leaves you about as wise as she found you. 
You see through the whole that she is plotting future 
visits to Paris, and means to be well received. The 
tone of fearless truth, which cares not for giving offence, 
is singularly wanting. I was quite amused with her 
Toryism. It aims to be authoritative and dignified, but 
cannot rise above scolding. I hope much more from the 
French than you do ; but they need great changes, and 
such seem to be beginning. Madame Trollope is most 
angry with them for the worship of Eeason in the days 
of their madness. Such freaks cannot last. To me, their 
worship of the agreeable, of pleasure, their idea of life as 
given for sport and bagatelle, their out-door, superficial, 
epicurean mode of living, the apparent absence of all con- 
sciousness of the serious and sublime purposes of human 
existence, — this is to me most discouraging. The great 
work of Paris is to solve the problem how the most con- 
tinuous pleasurable sensation can be secured, and they 
have learned that the gentler and more moderate plea- 
sures, the little " agremens," the courtesies and graces of 
life, are vastly more effectual in exorcising the demon 
ennui, than more vehement and passionate enjoyments. 
They are the wisest and most practical epicureans ; but, 
to my apprehension, Paris is one of the last spots on 
earth for comprehending or securing the true happiness 
of a human being. There is one striking proof of the 
folly of their philosophy. In the city, where people live 
most for the present moment, contempt of life is more fre- 

n2 



268 



TO MISS AlKDs T . 



quent than anywhere else. Where but in Paris would yon 
have had such an exhibition as the execution of Pieschi 
and the other conspirators? Mrs. Trollope even says 
that every week there are cases of suicide for no other 
object but to be talked of, and to awaken wonder for a 
day. I will not answer for the truth of this, but I cannot 
think that, where life is laid down with so much sang- 
froid, its true happiness has been found. Mrs. Trollope's 
book is an amusing comment on the national vanity, not 
by her description of it, but by the degree in which she 
has caught the contagion herself. She has given with 
much seriousness a ludicrous scene, the reading of Cha- 
teaubriand's Memoirs before a select circle, a most truly 
Parisian affair ; and the complacent authoress, in her 
delight at finding her way into this precious coterie, has 
not the faintest suspicion of the smiles she is exciting in 
the reader at her own expense, and the expense of the 
other worshippers of that distinguished man. But is 
Prance always to be so superficial ? The change in her 
intellectual philosophy is remarkable ; but passing over 
this and other refined agents, a grosser instrument is 
working a revolution in Prance, and indeed in all Purope. 
I refer to the Spirit of Trade, the Spirit of Eailroads, and 
other material improvements, the impulse given to all 
industry. The Prench may even rival you in wealth- 
worship and in the passion for accumulation ; and when 
men begin to build up a fortune as the great interest of 
life, though they may not be morally better, they will cer- 
tainly be more serious, earnest, thoughtful of the future ; 
and here is a groundwork for something nobler. In pro- 
portion as the people grow industrious and rich, they will 
be less in the streets ; and in proportion as they cease 
to live perpetually in one another's sight, they will learn 
to look into themselves ; something inward will take 
place of the outward, the superficial, the frivolous. — I 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



269 



little thought of making out my letter on one topic. You 
will see that I have caught nothing of the French volatil- 
ity of spirit ; and you may wish that I had taken some 
lessons in the Parisian art of touching a subject lightly 
and gracefully, and glancing from one to another ; but 
you will accept kindly what is done in kindness. I have 
not strength enough to write another letter, or make 
this more legible. 

Very faithfully your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



To Dr. Changing-. 

Hampstead, June 12, 1836. 

This is indeed an awakener to my conscience ! A 
second kind and delightful letter from you, whilst an 
answer to the first is still lying half-written in my 
desk, where it has remained untouched, I believe, a full 
month ! 

My only excuse is one which I rejoice that you had 
not to plead — an unusual severity and continuance of 
illness and debility, and perhaps an indolent disinclina- 
tion to exert the little power which I still possess. But 
away with such impediments ! I will make mind vic- 
torious for once over body ! Your account of Harriet 
Martineau gives me great pleasure. I rejoice that her 
remarkable and fearless sincerity has been rightly appre- 
ciated among you ; it sometimes made me fear for her in 
London; but there also what friends she made she kept. 
No doubt she will write a book about you; but I entirely 
agree with you that travellers always see imperfectly, 
and with a bias. Nevertheless, I should like you to 
look at Von Eaumer's account of us. I believe him to 
be upright and sincere, and he gave me the idea of an 



270 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



industrious, and zealous, and rather able man of letters. 
The curious thing is, the coolness with which he takes 
for granted that Prussia is much further advanced than 
England in the science of legislation and government, 
as well as in the arts of music, painting and sculpture ; 
and the patronizing tone with which he honours us on 
these matters, doing homage, however, to our surpassing 
wealth and luxury. It is true that Prussia may boast 
of a national system of education which imparts the 
rudiments of several kinds of knowledge, and of singing 
and playing to all ; and that they have advanced so far 
as to put all religions on the same footing, not only with 
regard to civil rights, but to state endowments. Yet I 
believe we shall not be brought to look up to any des- 
potism, however mildly or prudently administered. 

Germany is a country which now interests me much 
more than Prance, though I am struck with your ideas 
respecting the means now at work for her improvement, 
and I shall rejoice to see them verified ; but to us Ger- 
many is of more importance, It is a school in which 
numbers of our young men are learning lessons, the 
results of which are likely, unless I mistake, strongly 
to influence religious feelings, rather perhaps than reli- 
gious opinions, amongst us. One of these gentlemen, 
now about thirty, poured out his whole heart -to me on 
these subjects the other day, taking me, I believe, to be 
the only female relation he had who could understand or 
would bear with him. He had returned some years ago 
from a first visit to Germany, resolute not to fulfil his 
destination to the English Church. A second residence 
has only confirmed him in his abhorrence of creeds and 
articles, and admiration of the freedom of a German 
university, where all varieties of opinion are represented 
by one professor or another, and the students may attend 
whichever they please. He seemed to me devout as well 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



271 



as sincere. The cheap and simple life led by the inha- 
bitants of Munich, where he has also found an agreeable 
circle of lettered and polished society, delighted him 
much. He will probably return to it, at least for a 
season ; but in the meantime he is connected with a 
set of young Germanized Englishmen, who write in a 
new British and Foreign Be view, and are labouring to 
instil their free opinions into our public. 

Full time it is now that I should thank you for your 
introduction of your nephew and his family. My illness, 
indeed, has prevented my seeing the mother and son 
more than once, when they paid me too short a visit, 
and your niece I have not seen, but I was very much 
struck and pleased with Mr. Channing. He instantly 
revived my recollection of you, which was in itself a 
great merit in him ; but I can well perceive that he has 
much besides. His manners are such as no teaching 
could give ; they are evidently the emanation of a noble 
and elegant mind. I was particularly struck with the 
candour he evinced in all his judgments, and the fine 
tact manifested in all he said and did. I congratulate 
you with my whole heart on possessing such a relation 
and such a friend and associate as I am sure he must 
prove to you. I hope for one more glimpse of them 
before they finally quit London. Ah ! why w r ill you 
not come yourself ? 

I am all but a prisoner to my house and little garden. 
I am a miserable walker, and unable to bear without 
injury the motion of a carriage even for a short drive. 
I accommodate myself, however, to my circumstances 
better than I could have anticipated. Whilst I have 
books always, and the sight of friends sometimes, I find 
life more than bearable. The only thought which sits 
heavy on my mind is that of my own inutility. Alas ! 
what important end of existence do I fulfil ? To whom 



272 



TO DR. .CHANNING. 



is it of any real consequence whether or not I continue 
to fill a place in the world ? I hope only that involuntary 
uselessness will not be imputed, and that we may say, 
" They also serve who only stand and wait." The thing 
I find chiefly to be guarded against is indolence, or the 
habit of filling up time with trifling occupations which 
unfit the mind for any strenuous effort. I own myself 
guilty this way ; I promise to amend — but how difficult 
to make motives for exertions ! A necessarian would 
say, impossible. The thought of necessarians brings me 
back to that system of Hartley which you dislike so much. 
Surely it must be wrong to trace human character or 
human actions to any single principle, whether that of 
association or any other, for we cannot well help observ- 
ing in ourselves the operation of a great complication of 
causes. But yet I suppose you would admit that there 
is not one of our active principles which is not strongly 
influenced by the power of association. How then do 
you limit its sway ? The more I reflect upon the for- 
mation of human character, the more impracticable I 
feel it to reduce the facts to any general rule. It seems 
as if the doctrine of association had been employed by 
the French philosophers to represent that chance to which 
they were willing to ascribe everything. But the pious 
Hartley no doubt believed, " All chance direction which 
we cannot see/' Still, I never could understand how his 
system was really compatible with moral responsibility 
— with the sense of human actions which God himself 
has surely implanted in our souls. I do not wonder that 
Mackintosh struggled so hard to find a middle way be- 
tween two systems which appear each of them false and 
each of them true, according to the side on which they 
are viewed. This is all very crude, I am sensible ; but I 
want to strike a light out of you if I may. 

Pray believe me ever most truly yours, 

L. Aikin. 



TO MISS AXKIN. 



273 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, November 21, 1836. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Your letter of June 12th de- 
served an earlier answer; but I have for some time 
shrunk from any effort, except in cases where I had a 
special object which required immediate attention. At 
the end of the summer T was attacked with a short ill- 
ness which left me prostrated for weeks, from which I 
am not yet entirely restored. I find that we may learn 
to suffer, as we learn other things. I do not mean merely 
that we may make a wiser and more effectual use of 
religious principles and hopes, but that Ave may learn 
abstinence from ineffectual attempts to mitigate pain 
which only disappoint and make bad worse, and get the 
art of turning to better account the little intervals and 
alleviations of suffering which belong to sickness. I 
find it better to look the foe (that is too hard a word) in 
the face, and to make up my mind to pain, instead of 
inquiring for and multiplying remedies, and watching 
solicitously their operation. I have fancied, too, that 
by analyzing our sensations in moments of suffering, we 
might find some pleasurable ingredients which escape 
us without such attention, and which may be brought 
out and fill larger space by a wise care. Much may 
be done, where there is any command of thought (and 
this is seldom wholly lost), by choosing topics of thought 
of an interesting nature, such as our past lives, the modes 
in which certain principles or habits grew up, the influ- 
ences of such and such friends, or the characters of 
friends revealed in all that we know of them. I suspect 
that the retirement of a sick chamber, so spent, will 
make us better acquainted, not only with ourselves, but 
with others, than a long intercourse in which we have 



274 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



never concentrated our observation. I am satisfied a 
good book might be written on the art of suffering. Our 
intellectual philosophy might furnish many hints. The 
expedients to which impatience recurs for relief almost 
always aggravate the evil. Why not make this the sub- 
ject of one of your essays ? It would be worth a few 
fits of illness to be able to teach others how to bear it. 

In looking at your last letter, I see you recur to some 
of my opinions about the change going on in the French 
character. After sending that letter, I feared I might 
have written unguardedly. I meant only to give facts, 
not to express approbation of them. The spirit of trade, 
enterprize and accumulation, is working mighty changes, 
supplanting the spirit of war, the old aristocracy, &c, 
bringing forward the inferior classes ; but there is much 
in it I detest. It is removing many abuses, undoing the 
past ; but I do not see that it is to re-construct society 
so as to answer at all the hopes of a wise philanthropist. 
Our country this moment is suffering severely from the 
madness of what is called " speculation/' The insane 
lust of gain has hurried multitudes into over-trading 
and wild schemes, and we all suffer ; but the suffering 
is nothing compared with the infinite moral evils of this 
reckless, daring selfishness. I was exceedingly struck 
with the deep impression made on Lamartine (in his 
Pilgrimage) by the quiet, unaspiring, unsolicitous spirit 
of the East. Have you read that book ? Its descrip- 
tions of scenery are wearisome, but the views of society 
are exceedingly interesting. He evidently thought that 
there was more virtue as well as happiness in the aban- 
donment of the Oriental to the present moment, to the 
influences of nature, to spontaneous, unsought pleasures, 
to the natural affections, than in the restless, feverish, 
anxious pursuits of avarice and ambition which charac- 
terize Europe. I have no doubt that the - true religion 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



275 



is the reconciliatiou of these two elements of repose and 
activity, so seldom harmonized now ; nor do I believe in 
any other mediator. 

Your account of the probable influence of Germany 
on your country was exceedingly interesting to me. I 
know nothing of the new British and Foreign Review. 
Anything to stir up the unphilosophical, stationary mind 
of England on moral, religious, spiritual subjects, must 
do good. The Church seems to you in danger. At this 
distance, it seems to be embraced with new zeal by a for- 
midable party, and the public mind seems to be running 
into a religion most falsely called evangelical The signs 
of a purer, nobler faith do not appear as yet. That there 
is an under-current of scepticism, I do not doubt : so 
much the worse. At this moment, religion seems to be 
doing nothing to elevate the national mind. I trust it 
lays restraint on vice, and this is a great good. Write 
me more on these points. Write me soon, and tell me 
you are better and able to labour. I must stop. What 
is taking place is chiefly of local importance, though very 
exciting. We have passed through an election of Presi- 
dent in the most quiet way, though the parties are much 
inflamed. I took but little interest in it, for the chief 
points of difference are financial, or relate to banks, re- 
venue, &c, affairs beyond my capacity, and understood 
very little by other people. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Chaxxixg. 

I have not yet read Eaumer. In truth, I have been a 
sad idler for three months. A friend read to hie, whilst 
convalescing, a powerful, but strange, I fear unprofitable, 
book, called " Physical Theory of another life." It is 
worth reading. 



276 



TO DR. CHANNINGr. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, December 10, 1836. 

My dear Friend, — Will you, or not, regard it as a pal- 
liation of my shameful deficiencies as a correspondent, 
that I have had in my paper-case for above two months 
a letter to you half-finished, which I have never found 
resolution to complete ? The fact was, that I had there 
entered into some political speculations, the soundness 
of which I began to distrust as soon as I saw them on 
paper. I said to myself, " Let them wait till I see more 
of the course of events in Ireland/' And thus they re- 
mained till a few days since, when I finally condemned 
them. Wiser people, and much more skilful politicians, 
than I, have been as much perplexed to know what to 
expect, or even what to wish, for that luckless country. 
It seems to me that all the really puzzling questions in 
public morals, as in private, arise from having previously 
gone wrong. The straight line is generally obvious enough 
to those who have never quitted it, but hard to be distin- 
guished by such as, having deviated, are anxious to return 
to it by the nearest way. This is what one feels about the 
Protestant Establishment in Ireland. The wrong step 
was to set it up whilst the majority of the people were 
Papists ; but to give to that abominable superstition 
the triumph of seeing it now at length pulled down 
again, goes very much against one's feelings and all one's 
better hopes for mankind. Still worse would it be to see 
the re-establishment of Popery, which seems to be aimed 
at by O'Connell and his red-hot followers. Meantime, 
there is unmingled satisfaction in observing the equal jus- 
tice which is now administered there between men of the 
two religions, and the means taken to civilize their fierce 
manners, and to relieve their wants. Should this sys- 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



277 



tern be steadily pursued for some time longer, it may so 
mollify angry spirits as to render an equitable adjust- 
ment very feasible. 

The warmest wish which my heart now forms for my 
country is the cessation of the vehement party struggles 
which have agitated us so long. To say nothing of the 
interruption of old friendships and of the comfort of 
general society which they occasion, they occupy many 
of the ablest heads and most accomplished characters, 
to the exclusion of objects of higher, because more ex- 
tensive and permanent, importance. Literature, as you 
well know, is in an unsatisfactory state amongst us. By 
writers, it is too much regarded as a mere trade ; by 
readers, as one only of the contrivances for filling up the 
vacant spaces of life ; like dancing, singing, or sight- 
seeing. But we may live to see a change. I have lately 
been paying a good deal of attention to the literature of 
the time of William and Anne ; and it is cheering to 
observe what an impulse was given to it by that revolu- 
tion which, like the one in which we are now living, 
was peaceable, and carried in favour of freedom, by ap- 
peals to the reason, the best feelings and the true interests 
of Englishmen. 

Pray read, as I am doing, the " Literary Eemains " of 
Coleridge. In one passage he denounces with such in- 
dignant scorn those readers who presume to intimate 
that an author does not understand himself, when it is 
only that their stupid or ignorant minds are incapable 
of understanding him, that I certainly dare not intimate 
any such suspicion regarding him. I will only say that 
he has very many passages which pass my comprehen- 
sion : some, indeed, which are quite too deep in scholar- 
ship for me; others which I do comprehend, but which 
seem to me exceedingly absurd; others, again, which 
have more of the philosopher, and more of the poet, than 



278 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



we can hope from any one of our living writers with 
whom I am acquainted. His native proneness to the 
mystical seems to have received added force from his 
study of the German philosophy ; but from that deep 1 
often perceive that pearls are drawn up. I have fre- 
quently wished myself a diver in it. I feel, as I know 
you do, the " flat, stale and unprofitable " of our utilita- 
rianism in everything. It rejoices my spirit when Cole- 
ridge launches a thunderbolt at that clay idol of our 
universities — Paley. As to his assaults upon Unita- 
rianism, I do not suppose they will much either irritate 
or alarm you. He is a perfect enthusiast for the Trinity, 
and especially for the doctrine of the fall of man. Of 
the last he says, that it is not only inconceivable to him 
how it should be true, but that it should be true ; but 
that it is, his conscience tells him so. As if a man should 
say, I know I am a beggar, and that convinces me that 
my great grandfather must have had a fine estate and 
forfeited it for treason ! Next to these grand mysteries, 
he seems to cherish the notion that the genius of Shaks- 
peare was actually superhuman ; and he approaches an 
apparently absurd or immoral passage in his writings 
with full as much awe as a text of scripture — the plenary 
inspiration of which, by the way, he strenuously denies. 
Yet his lecture on English Literature, and particularly 
his remarks on Shakspeare, are full of deep thought, ex- 
quisite discrimination, profound sensibility, and brilliant 
and truly poetical illustration. It is a great pity that, 
as he delivered them almost entirely without notes, we 
have them only in the imperfect memoranda taken down 
by his hearers. They were perfectly dazzling as he deli- 
vered them. I was so fortunate as to hear two of them, 
almost thirty years ago. 

I have not yet seen Miss Martineau, though several 
notes have passed between us relative to the memorial 



TO BR. CHANNINGk 



279 



of English authors to your legislature concerning copy- 
right. Mr. Farrar says the business would have been 
more likely to succeed if our Government had interposed 
by its minister, and so I think too ; doubting a little 
whether Harriet's interest at Washington will prove as 
powerful as she imagines— but the effort seems at least 
not likely to injure the cause, which is surely a just one. 
There will be, I hope, a good deal of curiosity to see our 
friend's book ; but, unluckily, we have been inundated 
with books on America, and it will be difficult for her to 
find unpreoccupied ground. The Slavery question is a 
rock in her way which will require wariness. Our public 
may think that we have purchased a right not to have 
our feelings further tortured with details of negro suf- 
fering. She will regard herself as addressing, perhaps 
equally, both sides of the water — for she seems to have 
left at least half her heart behind her — and this, I con- 
ceive, will make a difficulty. Miss Tuckerman paid me 
a short visit the other day, and left me desirous of seeing 
more of her. There is the stamp of something noble 
upon her, as indeed might be expected of her father's 
daughter. 

With me time passes — as I believe it never does with 
you — heavily, languidly. I read and read, but can fix 
my mind to no pursuit, and my pen is quite idle. It 
might seem strange to say I am idle because I am alone, 
and yet I verily believe this to be the case. Under the 
perpetual misfortune of domestic solitude, I find it im- 
possible to raise my spirits to the tone necessary for 
composition ; idleness re-acts on my spirits ; and unless 
I can make to myself, or circumstances should make for 
me, some kind of stimulus, this unsatisfactory state may 
continue to the end. Change of scene would be a grand 
medicine to my mind, but unfortunately travelling dis- 
agrees exceedingly with my health. Why do I trouble 



280 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



you with all this ? I believe in excuse for a dull letter, 
or else from the pardonable wish of gaining a little 
sympathy. 

Again my letter has suffered an interruption of many 
days. The melancholy of the last paragraph was, I 
believe, the gathering of a fit of illness. It is now dis- 
persed, and I am going to enjoy myself at a friend's 
house in London, where much good company is to be met. 
I shall have the opportunity of asking Mr. Hallam when 
he intends to give us his history of the literature of (I 
think) the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, which I am 
impatient to see. Just now I am reading — what indeed 
I have often read before, but the changes in our own 
sentiments often make an old book seem new to us — the 
great epic of Tasso. I never admired this noble work so 
much, and I am now wishing to see a critique worthy of 
it by some modern hand. The division of the poetry of 
Europe, since the revival of letters, into the classical and 
the romantic, is, I think, a good one ; but it would be 
hard to say which school may best lay claim to Tasso ; 
their respective shares seem balanced to a grain, reckon- 
ing, that is, by the number of lines which seem to belong 
to each. As to the value of the respective parts, the case 
is very different. From the ancients, Virgil in particular, 
he has servilely translated many passages and transferred 
some whole incidents ; what is in the romantic style is 
full of life and interest, and, so far as I know, of origin- 
ality. In one part he appears only the elegant scholar and 
versifier; in the other, the great poet. Had he not, from 
melancholy and distrust of himself, submitted his work to 
the tyranny and pedantry of classical critics, I cannot but 
think he would have given us an epic all romantic, and 
all worthy of his genius, which was not less fertile than 
graceful. How unaccountable it is that he should every- 
where call the Mahomedans pagans, so intimately as 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



281 



Moors and Saracens were then known all over Italy ! Did 
ever religions animosity so mistake the matter as when 
Italian Papists reproached Mussulmans with idolatry ! 
Ariosto misstates this matter as much as Tasso. I live 
upon the old masterpieces ; lately I treated myself with 
the re-perusal of "Don Quixote/'' which Coleridge, by the 
way, has very admirably and eloquently characterized. 
You are a great optimist ; but will you give me any 
hopes that we shall ever see greater, or so great, works 
of genius again produced ? The presiding power of this 
age is the steam-engine, and what has that to do with 
anything morally or spiritually great ? 

Pray believe me ever yours, with true regard, 

L. A nay. 

To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, February 12, 1837. 

My dear Friend, — Many thanks both for your kind 
letter and for your dedication sermon,* in which I found 
much to interest me, although the general strain of sen- 
timent is, as indeed it could not but be, very similar to 
what you had before expressed. I was much pleased 
with your biographical notice at the end of it. Here I 
reckon myself upon my own ground, and I entirely agree 
with you that "no department of literature is so false/' 
Give us more of these sketches of your old worthies ; 
this must bear to the mind of every reader the stamp of 
truth and resemblance, and the manner in which its 
subject dealt with his horrible system was very original 
and remarkable, and much worth recording. I formerly 
heard, from the lips of a large and free thinker, this 
problem —Suppose that it were necessary, in order to 

* Discourse at Dedication of Unitarian Church, Newport, Rhode Island, 
July 27, 1836. 



282 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



carrying into effect the system which should produce the 
greatest amount of good upon the whole to the human 
race, that a few individuals should endure unrequited 
misery, such as should make existence to them a pre- 
ponderance of suffering: would you say that it was 
inconsistent with the justice of God to adopt that system? 
I could find no other answer than this : — That if it were 
believed that there was to be even one such victim, as 
no man could tell that the doomed one might not be 
himself, it would destroy reliance upon the justness or 
goodness of God in every mind, and I could not believe 
in an unjust Deity. But Dr. Hopkins would have said 
this was a selfish, wicked view of the subject. Somewhat 
a similar conclusion, though from very different premises, 
Mackintosh comes to in one of his speculations, where 
he seems to say that a man ought to be contented with 
believing that the race would go on indefinitely advanc- 
ing in knowledge, virtue and happiness, and discard the 
weakness of wishing or hoping that his own existence 
should be continued to be a witness of that advancement. 
But this is too sublime a height of virtue for me. After 
all, the origin of evil is the difficulty ; it lies at the bot- 
tom of every system, whether of religion or philosophy, 
and by whom has it ever been solved? You express 
curiosity respecting our visible church, and want to hear 
more fully the grounds of my opinion that it is in danger, 
notwithstanding the stout rally apparently making in its 
favour. No doubt the sense of danger has called up 
zealous defenders, and to a small extent a coalition may 
have taken place between the orthodox, that is the half- 
Eomish, and the evangelical, that is the half-Puritan, 
parties within our Establishment. In fact, the ritual 
superstitions of one sect, and the doctrinal superstitions 
of the other, are not so absolutely incompatible but that 
interest may sometimes reconcile them ; and it is from 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



283 



no advancement of human reason upon these points that 
I augur ill for the ecclesiastical fabric, but from more 
earthly considerations. 

The spirit of our liturgy and of our clergy is basely, 
slavishly loyal. " Tear God, and honour the King/' are 
injunctions which they have always coupled together as 
equally obligatory and sacred. Now the spirit of this 
age, as I need not tell you, is anything but this. Hence 
a wide and deep ill-will among the numerous classes 
towards the system, and still more towards the men. 
For proof of this, I cite the success which has attended 
all late attempts at abridging the exclusive privileges 
of the Establishment. The new Registration-law, just 
coming into action, takes from the clergy, and without 
pecuniary compensation, the monopoly of performing 
marriages. It likewise adds a universal register of births 
to the registry alone of baptisms performed by the paro- 
chial clergy, and this too without compensation for pro- 
bable diminution of baptismal fees. 

The imposition of Church-rates has been so vigorously 
opposed by the advocates of the voluntary system — com- 
prehending many Churchmen, with the whole body of 
Dissenters — that the ministry must abolish them. Tithes 
in England have probably been saved for the present by 
a commutation ; but High-churchmen, with some reason, 
regard this as placing the revenues of the Church on a 
less independent and less secure foundation, making 
them stipendiaries rather than freeholders. In Ireland 
the tithe is certainly at its last gasp. The only claim 
advanced by Dissenters in which they have been as yet 
unsuccessful is that of admission to Oxford and Cam- 
bridge without a declaration of belonging to the Esta- 
blishment; but it has been found necessary to grant 
power of conferring degrees without that condition to an 



284 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



academic body in London, and probably the universities 
will find it their interest soon to yield. 

Another awkward circumstance for the Church is this. 
The vast increase of our population was naturally judged 
to require an addition to the number of places of wor- 
ship. Parliament under the Tories, and with many bitter 
speeches from the opposition, granted large sums for 
building churches, and by the activity of zealous persons, 
especially the Bishop of London, large subscriptions have 
since been raised for the same purpose. But how to 
endow the officiating ministers, and provide for current 
expenses, has become a greater difficulty than raising 
the edifices. Tithes and other Church funds being already 
appropriated, it was necessary to have recourse to pew- 
rents, and it appears as if the children of the Establish- 
ment, accustomed to get their religion gratis, so grudge 
this payment, that the new churches and chapels mostly 
turn out failures, and starve their ministers. A person 
above this sordidness, but more attached perhaps to the 
doctrines than the forms or rites of the Church, and 
caring more for the preaching than the Prayer-book, is 
tempted to say, however, " If I pay, let me at least pay 
to a chapel, where I may hear a minister chosen by 
myself and the rest of the congregation, and not forced 
upon us by the rector or the bishop/' And thus it 
seems as if Dissent would gain by the very measures 
taken to counteract its increase. To call in the voluntary 
principle in part is hazardous for an endowed Church. 
There has also been a little civil war between a com- 
mission, chiefly bishops, appointed to attempt some gentle 
reforms in the Church, and the deans and chapters, whom 
the pious prelates have defrauded of some patronage, 
and converted to their own benefit. Sydney Smith, that 
bright wit and independent politician who founded the 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



285 



" Edinburgh Beview," is one of the aggrieved, and has 
stated their case in a keen pamphlet which unmasks 
that would-be Laud, the Bishop of London, and which — 
contrary, I believe, to the author s intentions — gives a 
handle to the enemies of the hierarchy altogether. These 
are the signs of the times on which I found my auguries ; 
but very much of the fate of the Church, as well as State, 
will depend on the event of the renewal of that grand 
conflict between our two Houses of Legislature which is 
now imminently impending. Lor my own part, I see 
indeed many dangers, many evils, on both sides of the 
question; but I feel my heart beating stronger and 
stronger towards the cause of the people ; regarding that 
cause, however, as what would be best promoted by 
the preservation of our triple form of government, with 
some modification of the authority of the peers, and 
especially with the great improvement of the exclusion 
of the bishops from their house. 

I do not wonder that you regard the kind of religion 
now prevailing here as little fitted to elevate the mind, 
and useful only as a restraint. In fact, the currency, 
whether stamped with the effigies of prelate or heresiarch, 
is of base alloy ; but our cabinets contain thousands of 
pure gold medals. The present concern should be to 
cry down the base coin ; afterwards we may raise the 
standard. You will see my meaning if you will examine 
an article in the " Edinburgh Be view" on Evangelical 
Preaching. I know not who is the author, but I think 
him on the right track. It would break my heart to 
believe that superstition and hypocrisy were to hold in 
perpetual bondage my dear and noble country. They 
must not — will not — shall not ! 

Since I began this letter I have had the pleasure of 
a visit from your friend Mr. Gannett. We seemed 
acquainted at once, and had a long and animated con- 



286 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



versation, partly on the topics of this letter. I am much 
pleased with him. It is impossible to mistake his sin- 
cere devotion to the highest and best objects. I hope 
we shall return him to you well recruited for future 
exertions: In literature I have seen nothing lately of 
much interest, for I have not yet seen Mr. Hallam's new 
work. There is a Life of Goldsmith, prolix, and in every 
respect meanly written ; the account of his early days, 
however, is worth reading, as a picture of Irish manners 
about a century ago. Nothing is more remarkable than 
the loose notions of property among persons of some 
education. Those who wanted, however much it was 
their own fault, asked as a matter of course, and what 
is more, received as a matter of course, relief from 
persons whom the same carelessness might reduce to 
beggary to-morrow. It seems that the description in 
the " Deserted Village" of the exemplary clergyman who 
so freely received all beggars and vagabonds for his 
guests and companions, was a true draught from Irish 
life, such as the poet saw it in his own father's house. 
According to our Irish poor commissioners, the same 
amalgamation seems still to subsist between the begging 
and the farming population, and I apprehend it had its 
root in the old Brehon law which gave the property of 
land to the whole Sept in common, and merely tempo- 
rary occupation to individuals. One might say that the 
Irish have never owned anything but land, and in that, 
or its profits, all have regarded themselves as entitled to 
some share. In this there seems to be some natural 
justice; but how incompatible with civilized English 
notions ! Poor Goldsmith, with his boundless sympathy 
and goodnature, and thus brought up, became in London 
a constant prey to rapacity and imposture, and when 
brought to distress he preyed on others by running in 
debt to them. His habits of life were far from right and 



TO MISS AIKEN. 



287 



correct ; but still he had " a spirit finely touched ;" he 
always served virtue with his pen, and his delightful 
works seem no nearer oblivion than when they first 
appeared. I am glad to see him brought again before 
the public. 

I have heard no more since my last writing concern- 
ing our German students ; in fact, we are too busy at 
present with practical matters concerning our Church 
and State to have much leisure for the speculations of 
philosophy, in which the Germans may freely indulge. 
I wish we also found ourselves too busy to dip into the 
infamous and corrupting novels now so prominent a part 
of the literature of Trance. You may see that our re- 
views, under colour of reprehending, are exciting curiosity 
respecting them, and I fear they are fast gliding into a 
half-secret circulation. 

Our whole country has been saddened by a severe 
epidemic, under the name of influenza, of which many, 
chiefly of the aged and the weakly, have died. It is 
abating now. With me it dealt lightly, and I am now 
in usual health. 

I rejoice to hear good accounts of your recovered 
strength. 

Believe me ever truly yours, 

Lucy Aikin, 

To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, April 1, 1837. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received two or three days 
ago your letter of February. It gave me great pleasure. 
Your previous letter had been written under disease and 
depression, and gave me some concern for you. I rejoice 
with you in your improved health and spirits. I cannot 



288 



to miss aikin. 



think of you as restored. Both of us, I suppose, are 
doomed to find the body more or less a burden to the 
end of our journey. But I repine not at the doom. 
What remains to me of strength becomes more precious 
for what is lost. I have lost one ear, but was never so 
alive to sweet sounds as now. My sight is so far impaired 
that the brightness in which nature was revealed to me 
in my youth is dimmed, but I never looked on nature 
with such pure joy as now. My limbs soon tire, but I 
never felt it such a privilege to move about in the open 
air, under the sky, in sight of the infinity of creation, 
as at this moment. I almost think that my simple food, 
eaten by rule, was never relished so well. I am grateful, 
then, for my " earthly tabernacle/' though it does creak 
and shake not a little. It has stood this winter's blasts 
wonderfully. I do not know when I have passed through 
the cold wind so comfortably. Pardon my egotism. I 
should not have yielded to it, had I not felt that I had 
a good account to give of myself. Happiness, perhaps, 
makes us more egotistical than suffering. My sufferings 
I wish to shut up, but would it be grateful to give no 
tongue to my joy ? The habit which I have of looking 
at what i$ interesting and great in human nature has no 
small influence in brightening my life. To be a spiritual 
being, to have the power of thought, of virtue, disinte- 
restedness, progress without end — this does seem to me 
an infinite good. If this inward life can be strengthened, 
it seems to me of little importance what the outward 
life is. I have only had a gentle touch, a slight taste of 
poverty, not enough to let me know fully what this 
dreaded calamity is ; but it seems to me I should not 
care much for it, if the consciousness of my inward spi- 
ritual being should remain to me. Again I must say, 
forgive my egotism. I am almost tempted to begin a 
new letter, lest what I have written should give you 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



289 



some false impression of my feelings ; but your know- 
ledge of human nature will tell you that misgivings and 
self-reproach must mix with these brighter views. My 
present mood is cheerful, and allowance must be made 
for it. 

I have read very little of late, because I have been 
well enough to act. Books are my amusements rather 
than employment. Yesterday I was reading a story of 
Eichter (Jean Paul), and was a little struck with finding 
there at full the thoughts which I had expressed in my 
last letter to you, on the power of a great idea. Perhaps 
one reason of my interest in German books is, that I 
meet so much of my own mind in them. I well remem- 
ber when I read Madame De Stael's Germany, on its 
first appearance, how amazed and delighted I was to 
find it overflowing with thoughts which had been 
struggling and forming in my own breast, some half- 
formed, some matured. Mr. Hallam's new work has not 
reached me, nor Goldsmith's Life. I shall be glad to 
get some more favourable views of the latter than Boswell 
has given. I have sometimes been almost ready to pro- 
nounce Goldsmith the finest specimen of English style. 
He unites with Addison's wonderful ease and nature, a 
sweetness all his own. Such writers as Addison and 
Goldsmith make me feel my own great defects. The 
eloquent style, as it is called, I might make some approach 
to. But the spontaneous graces of these writers are 
beyond me. I do not enjoy them the less on that 
account. 

I was much interested by your news of the Church 
question, and am looking with great concern to the 
struggle in the present Parliament. Success to the good 
cause ! 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm. E. Channmg. 

o 



290 



TO DR. CHANNINGr. 



Mr. Norton, whom I introduced to you, has just pub- 
lished the first volume of an important work on " The 
Genuineness of the Gospels/' I have read the text only, 
not the notes, which form the bulk of the volume. It 
has great merit. Do read it. 

To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, April 23, 1837. 

My dear Friend, — The very great kindness of your last, 
which I received lately, impels me to answer it speedily, 
though I think you will ere now have had one of mine, 
written in much better spirits than that which so much 
excited your concern for me. Yes, body is to blame, I 
believe, whenever my spirits are depressed without any 
evident cause, for they are usually victorious over all 
minor miseries, and they, like my health, are now re- 
cruited. It appears that thousands have been attacked, 
during our long visitation of influenza, with this dejection 
of mind ; that in many cases it has formed the leading 
symptom of the epidemic — so mysteriously do mind and 
body act and re-act upon each other. This extraordinarily 
prolonged winter has aggravated all our evils, and we 
are but just beginning to feel a milder air breathing upon 
us. The face of nature is still wintry and dark. For- 
tunate may those account themselves who, like myself, 
have not been called to mourn for any very near and 
dear; the mortality has been appalling. The w^eakly, 
and particularly the aged, have been mown down in 
heaps. Since the plague of London, so large a proportion 
of its population has never fallen in a single season. 

Do you inquire what our public is now occupied with? 
We have forgotten our epidemic, we have waived politics 
for a space, and have been supping full with the horrors 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



291 



of a bloody murder. Not that we care so very much 
for the simple circumstance of a man's killing a woman 
whom he pretended to be on the point of marrying ; but 
to have cut off her head and limbs afterwards, that is 
what has shocked us beyond measure. I believe, how- 
ever, the general feeling is in this instance right, and 
that, even of the persons capable of a cold-blooded, mer- 
cenary murder, but few could bring themselves to attempt 
such a mode of disposing of the remains. I should be 
sorry to see our populace cured of all reverence for the 
shell which has once contained a human spirit. In this 
case, the police were obliged to fight hard with the mob 
to prevent them from tearing to pieces the murderer, 
and a woman, his accomplice. 

Are you aware that the humanity of our rabble is one 
topic of our national boasting ? Unlike the French, mobs 
with us never shed the blood of any whom they regard 
as their own political enemies. I am not aware that 
they have massacred since the days of Jack Cade. Then 
they always take the part of the weaker. A man could 
scarcely 'do anything so dangerous as to treat a child 
with cruelty in the streets of London. Formerly, they 
were unfeeling towards the brute creation ; but owing, 
I think, to two circumstances — the diffusion of the taste 
for natural history by Penny Magazines and by the 
Zoological Gardens, and the enactment of penal laws 
against cruelty to animals — a great and admirable change 
has taken place, insomuch that it is now a protection to 
cattle to be driven to market through the great thorough- 
fares of the city. I am inclined to think that no evil 
propensity is so generally counteracted by the influence 
of education as that to cruelty — the vice, peculiarly, of 
the unthinking and the uncivilized. In this point, at 
least, the connection between knowledge and virtue is 
perfectly clear. Would it were equally so in many others ! 

o 2 



292 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



A strange thing, good sir, that you should have been 
preaching here in Hampstead church, fifty yards from 
my door, without letting me know a word of the matter ! 
It must have been you, no doubt, for I am credibly in- 
formed that a stranger delivered in that pulpit, a few 
Sundays ago, one of Dr. Channing's most admired dis- 
courses, changing nothing whatever but the text. Yours 
is a wide cure seemingly ! This brings me to what you 
say of the value of a great idea, which gives " unity to 
our inward being." You have a great right to speak of 
what you know so well from happy personal experience. 
I will add that I regard it as the highest privilege of 
your profession, when embraced from pure motives and 
strong convictions, that it connects by so close a bond 
the inward and the outward life. It is the single care 
of the good pastor to put his most intimate thoughts into 
all his judgments upon the practice of others. From this 
concentration of his whole being, he derives that mighty 
power which enables him to wield the minds of men 
almost at his pleasure. No other class is thus privileged. 
A physician, for example, may overflow with devout feel- 
ing in his closet, but when he quits it he must take up 
studies and occupations quite unconnected with religion, 
which he cannot even introduce into his discourse but 
at the risk of giving offence, or of incurring suspicions. 
He must not take upon him to be weighing the actions 
and characters of other men in the scales of the sanc- 
tuary ; if he makes them his own standard, he cannot 
very gracefully proclaim that he does so. Hence a kind 
of complexity in the scheme*! of life, and especially a 
separation between inward and outward, unfavourable to 
ardour and to strong moral effects. The same may be 
said of persons engaged in every other walk of active 
life ; but the contemplative and the literary, if they are 
willing at least to live almost out of the world, may in 



TO DR. 



293 



good measure enact their own ideal. The ancient phi- 
losophers appear often to have done so. and they also 
were able to form schools of disciples, as were Godwin 
and Benthani in our own times. But for this, a spirit 
of dogmatism is requisite, with which many neither are 
nor would wish to be inspired. Certainly a great idea is 
like the faith which could remove mountains : but to 
think we have found a great, and at the same time a 
new idea, that is the difficulty. I own I have as much 
hope of finding the philosophers stone. Continual read- 
ing, if desultory and without a definite object, favours 
indolence, unsettles opinions, and of course enfeebles 
the mental and moral energies. Writing, on the con- 
trary, concentrates the thoughts and gives strength to 
convictions. I feel that since I have disused it my mind 
has become, if I may say so, of a thinner consistency. 
When by chance I turn to some passages of my James 
or Charles, I am apt to say to myself, Surely I was a 
man when I wrote that, who am now a mere old woman. 
This is lamentable enough. I wish I dare promise to 
find a remedy ; perhaps I may. however : for since my 
health is amended, I feel an appetite for labour to which 
I had long been a stranger. 

As to public affairs, we are all at gaze. Must the 
Whigs go out \ Dare the Tories come in ] Will the 
Commons pass this Bill \ Will the Lords throw out 
that \ These are the questions which everybody asks, 
and nobody can answer. The King will not let the Par- 
liament be dissolved, that seems certain: and parties 
are so nearly balanced in the legislature at present, that 
neither seems able to do more than obstruct the mea- 
sures of the other. It is like a great stoppage of car- 
riages in the street ; the people who sit fretting in their 
coaches think it will never be over ; but sooner or later 
some broad-wheeled waggon or brewer's dray will move 



294 



TO DR. CHANNINGr. 



out of the way, and people will proceed on their various 
errands as usual. We are waiting for some accident or 
incident. Meantime all parties are much out of humour; 
in particular the odium tlwologicmn is in high venom. 

Poor Lord Melbourne is half distracted whenever a 
bishop dies, because there is such a difficulty to find 
Whig parsons out of whom to make a new one — that is, 
such as are old and seasoned; plenty may be had made up 
in haste, on the spur of the occasion, but those are liable 
to warp by change of seasons. The last who died, Bathurst 
of Norwich, still more venerable by his virtues than his 
ninety-three years, was a true patriot, a fine scholar, a 
finished gentleman, and what might be called the Chris- 
tian of every church. Because he believed his own church 
the truest and the best, he was anxious to remove all 
such bulwarks from about her as tests and subscrip- 
tions ; because he was a really pious and exemplary man, 
he disdained affected rigour and evangelical sourness. I 
once heard him deliver a charge to his clergy, which 
was the best adapted to inspire at once veneration and 
filial affection that could be conceived, and the grace- 
fulness of composition and delivery was inimitable. On 
being introduced to him, I almost wished to beg his 
blessing. Norwich is one of the poorer sees; and, highly 
endowed and highly connected as Bathurst was, he might 
have insured a speedy translation on the usual terms ; 
but having opposed a Tory ministry on an important 
question, he said, on returning from the House of Lords, 
" I have lost Winchester, but I have satisfied my con- 
science/' If you look into Lockhart's " Life and Corre- 
spondence of Scott/' of which one volume has appeared, 
and as many more will appear as the public will submit 
to pay for, you will find an amusing fragment of an 
autobiography, comprising enough of the early years of 
this extraordinary man to show distinctly the circum- 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



295 



stances by which the turn was given to his tastes, sen- 
timents and pursuits. Much of his sickly childhood 
was passed at a farm-house, where his chief companions 
were cattle and the peasants who tended them. His 
predominant inclination being to hear stories in order 
to tell them, he soon made himself master of all the 
epics of that border country, and hence his heroes are 
always of the moss-trooping order, and his machinery 
consists of brownies, kelpies and fairies. Hence, too, his 
unquenchable animosity against the Southrons. Observe 
how seldom he draws an Englishman but as a coward 
or a fool. His vivid fancy, his animal spirits, his good- 
humour and habitual kindliness, and his perfect freedom 
from affectation, must be liked, and might be envied ; 
but the furniture of his mind was really made up of 
trumpery. Elevation of sentiment he had certainly 
none, and philosophy was far from him as the antipodes. 
Mr. Whishaw said once, of Bentham, that he was a 
schoolman born some ages too late : Scott was a stark 
moss-trooper in the same predicament, and a Jacobite. 

Since I began this letter I have been making a reviv- 
ing visit in London, in the midst of kind old friends, 
liberals and literati. One tone I find pervading all the 
men of deep and sound learning in whatever depart- 
ment, and it is what you will not like to hear of. It 
expresses a full conviction that the attempt to diffuse 
knowledge by means of society tracts and mechanics' 
institutes began in enthusiasm and proceeds in quackery; 
and they deprecate it, not in the spirit of aristocracy, but 
in the name of good letters, which they see to be .sus- 
taining severe injury by the attempt, on every subject, 
to write clown to the dull or ignorant. It used to be 
said of learning in Scotland, " that all had a mouthful, 
and none a full meal," and it is to be feared that some- 
thing like this will be the case here ; at least so say the 



296 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



croakers. I hold out the consolation that the multitude 
will throw down their books when nobody is watching, 
and take up some pastime which suits them better ; and 
then the old distinction of learned and unlearned will 
return. But there is a strange tendency to fly from 
one extreme to another. I perceive that young ladies, 
fatigued with lectures and languages, have fairly returned 
to the stupid cross-stitch works of their great-grand- 
mothers ; and who knows but they may resume the 
laudable practices of spelling at random and writing 
from corner to corner ! My present occupation is read- 
ing history ; that of the Eomans occupies me at present. 
I have purposes in this course of study, but no formed 
plan as yet. 

Believe me ever very truly yours, 

L. Aikin. 

The Duke of Sussex desires I will lend him your last 
sermon. He has been ill, and loves religious reading. 



To Miss Aikin. 

September 8, 1837. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I ought perhaps to begin, as I 
have often done, with apologies for delaying to answer 
your last very acceptable letter of April, but my confi- 
dence in your candour encourages me to leave my defence 
to yourself. I thank you for recalling to me in your 
last the kindness of the Duke of Sussex, from whom you 
had formerly transmitted a message. When I understood 
that he had borrowed from you my last discourse in his 
illness, I remembered that I had been wanting in courtesy 
and gratitude, and resolved to clear my conscience by 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



297 



sending Mm a recent publication, with a few lines. In 
accomplishing my task, I found myself unable to adopt 
the usual mode of address ; for so indifferent have I been 
to your aristocracy, that I have not even inquired into 
the titles by which the great are approached. I respected 
the Duke, however, too much to think that he would 
take offence at my republican plainness, and despatched 
my packet. You see my old want of respect for your 
hereditary distinctions is undergoing no change, though 
I honour many who bear them. It is a matter of amaze- 
ment that a people generally so wise and proud as the 
English, should confide from choice a power almost irresis- 
tible to a body wanting sympathy with them and looking 
down upon them as an inferior mass. I believe I never 
told you that when in England I almost envied the aris- 
tocracy one possession. It was not their social rank, or 
their palaces in the city. These I should not have been 
willing to accept. But their ancestral country-seats, 
with the ancient forest, the garden, the lawn, the park, 
the riding — these did almost move me to envy. When 
I now think of revisiting England, next to the pleasure 
of seeing a few old friends, great men, perhaps nothing 
attracts me more than the prospect of visiting some of 
the Edens which England embosoms. I do not, however, 
murmur ; I spend my summer on a delightful island, 
and live in the sight of a beauty which inspires constant 
gratitude. 

I have had a letter from Miss Martineau. Her book, 
though so able and so often breathing v a noble spirit, is 
in bad odour here, as bad as Mrs. Trollope's — perhaps 
worse, I hear with perfect composure the unsparing 
criticisms made on her mistakes and harsh judgments, 
but cannot hear with the same indifference the imputa- 
tions cast on her character. I honoured her reverence 
for truth ; but those who did not know her give her no 

o 3 



298 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



credit for this. She certainly has given us much praise 
as well as blame, to neither of which, however, do I 
attach much importance. For instance, she insists, 
again and again, on the abundance of good-temper among 
us ; from which I only infer, what I have heard, that as 
a people you are not remarkable for this quality, and 
that she judged us by contrast. Certain I am that we 
have no excess of this virtue, and I should never have 
thought of ascribing it as a distinction to my country- 
men. I am quite indifferent to the opinion of foreigners 
about us, for they are little more than guesses. What 
troubles me is, that through them the honour of free 
institutions should be wounded. Speaking of good-tem- 
per, I think our feelings towards Miss Martineau show 
that we do not deserve to be sainted for it. 

In your letter you speak again of Scott in a way which 
I feel to be unjust. I know he is no philosopher. He 
has no gift for analyzing our nature so as to search its 
elements, nor does he arrive by any high processes at its 
great laws ; but its actual combinations, from the throne 
to the cottage, its free, varied play through a vast range, 
he has a wonderful power of seizing and portraying. 
His broad, keen views of life, and his exhaustless inven- 
tion, give him a wide-spread empire, which belongs only 
to genius. I read his Life with great pleasure ; it an- 
swers the first end of biography — that is, helps you to 
judge of the hero as if you knew him, a condition ful- 
filled by few Lives. 

So the Conservatives are almost in the ascendant. 
Strange people ! The French, whose king- worship a 
century ago w T as their religion and patriotism and prin- 
ciple of honour, are utterly w^eaned from kings and 
nobles; and John Bull, shrewd, proud, practical as he is, 
clings to these as if they were his life. His son Jona- 
than, with all his bad manners, is certainly more of a 



TO 'DR. CHANNING. 



y 

299 



man in these respects than his father. I suppose the 
No-Popery panic has a good deal of influence on your 
politics. Is it true, what the papers say, that bribery was 
never so profusely or unblushingly used ? If so, aris- 
tocracy is not to be envied its triumphs. I promise 
* myself a great treat in Mr. Hallani's new work. I rejoice 
in your better health. Use the only true specifics for 
keeping it, exercise, temperance (in the large sense of 
the word) and cheerfulness. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm, E. Channing. 

To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, Oct. 14, 1837. 

My dear Friend, — Your welcome letter, yesterday re- 
ceived, contains matters which will not suffer me to 
leave it a day longer unanswered. With regard to Miss 
Martineau's notions of the political rights of women, I 
certainly hold, and it appears to me self-evident, that, on 
the principle that there should never be taxation with- 
out representation, women who possess independent pro- 
perty ought to vote ; but this is more the American than 
the English principle. Here it is, or was rather, the doc- 
trine that the elective franchise is a trust given to some 
for the good of the whole, and on that ground I think the 
claim of women might be dubious. Yet the Eeform Bill, 
by affixing the elective franchise only, and in all cases, to 
the possession of land, or occupancy of houses of a certain 
value, tends to suggest the idea that a single woman pos- 
sessing such property as unrestrictedly as a man, subject 
to the same taxes, liable even to some burdensome, though 
eligible to no honourable or profitable, parish offices, 
ought in equity to have, and might have without harm or 



300 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



danger, a suffrage to give. I vote for guardians of the 
poor of this parish by merely signing a paper ; why might 
I not vote thus for members of Parliament ? As to the 
scheme of opening to women professions and trades now 
exercised only by men, I am totally against it for more 
reasons than I have time to give. 

But there is more. In a very merry little female circle, 
at the time I mentioned, and I have never seen her since, 
we hailed Harriet Martineau as our champion, between 
joke and earnest, and she then told us of the scheme of 
a periodical devoted to the good of the sex, of which she 
was to be the editor. The chief points she then dwelt 
upon were, the sufferings of the most unhappy class of wo- 
men, and the necessity of taking more pains to explain to 
poor girls at school the snares which encompassed them, 
and the utter ruin to which one false step exposed them. 
In this I zealously concurred. ... So far, and only so far, 
do I agree in any opinions peculiarly hers .... I im- 
pute to her no designed misrepresentations ; but indeed, 
indeed, it is somewhat hard that on her eulogy of Ameri- 
can good-temper you should found a charge against us 
of ill-temper. Poor stupid John Bull has generally been 
reckoned good-natured at least. But what presumption 
in any individual to speak of the tempers of a whole 
nation ! What false judgment do we often form of those 
of our familiar acquaintances ! 

I have no doubt your packet would be exceedingly 
welcome to his Eoyal Highness the Duke of Sussex, 
notwithstanding any republican plainness in the address 
—I conclude you do not direct to Mr. Augustus Guelph. 
You say you do not care enough for our aristocracy to 
learn their titles, and at this I do not wonder. The his- 
tory of nobility in England is, however, a curious subject, 
on which an essay might be written, and I rather wonder 
such an one has not been written, capable of throwing 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



301 



much light on our history, and of explaining that attach- 
ment to the peerage which now perplexes you. It is 
because the nobility formed a caste in France, but has 
never done so in England, that the order is viewed with 
such opposite feelings in the two countries. In France, 
all the descendants of the noble were noblesse, and en- 
joyed immunities given to the detriment of the people 
at large, and which no bourgeois or his children could 
hope to share. Here the children of the highest peer 
are, all but the eldest, and that after his father's death, 
commoners in the eye of the law. They enjoy no immu- 
nities, and the humblest man in society is not always 
without a chance of seeing his son a peer, spiritual or 
temporal. The father of Lord Nelson was an obscure 
country clergyman; the father of Lord Lyndhurst, an 
American painter; of Bishop Blonifield, a parish-clerk. 
Lord Ashburton was himself a merchant. And these 
are the circumstances which attach the middle class 
to the lords : they are their own flesh and blood, and 
even in their haughtiness they take a natural kind of 
pride. To this you must add the respect which an 
Englishman can scarcely help feeling for the ancient 
families, sprung from those barons who wrung Magna 
Charta from a mean-souled tyrant, and who at many 
other trying periods of our history bought with their 
blood our laws, our liberties, and our glory. Think how 
many lords stood for the people against Charles ! Almost 
all the Parliament's first generals were peers. And it 
was by a few Whig lords that the Ee volution of 1688 
was planned and brought to effect. Long live the prin- 
ciple and practice of religious dissent 1 As a mass, zeal- 
ous Churchmen of every rank are Tories at heart. The 
principle of passive obedience, the worship of the powers 
that be, is almost inextricably interwoven with our Esta- 
blishment — certainly the most systematically servile in 



302 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



Christendom. Of the present reaction, as far as it exists, 
several causes may be assigned, of which I take the 
strenuous efforts of the clergy trembling for many things 
— their surplice fees among the rest — to be one of the 
chief. There has certainly been much bribery, and still 
more intimidation, on the part of the Tories, and a 
very unjust cry raised against ministers on account of 
the new Poor-law, in favour of which none of them 
were more warm or decided than Wellington and Peel. 
But several of these obstacles to the popular cause are 
temporary in their nature, none of them absolutely 
invincible ; and if our young Queen should continue 
her confidence to Lord Melbourne, whom at present she 
delights to honour, and who has had the wit to surround 
her with Whig ladies of the household, I see not but that 
the small ministerial majority may suffice to keep the 
Whigs in office. At any rate, I strongly confide that all 
really useful reforms will sooner or later be carried, even 
without invading the constitution of the House of Lords. 
The fact is, that the sovereign, if sincerely bent upon it, 
has always means sufficient, by the application of cer- 
tain court rewards and punishments, of commanding a 
majority in the upper House; and the Commons, by their 
command over the purse, can compel the sovereign to 
use this power in conformity with their will. Thus the 
result of all is, that a majority of the lower House can 
always make itself obeyed in the long run. The House, 
like the nation, is at present nearly equally divided; 
but with the spread of light and knowledge, I believe 
that the party of liberty is also diffusing itself — and 
think what victories it has already achieved ! Eash or 
unjust measures on either side may temporarily depress, 
by disgracing, one or the other party, but I do not 
greatly fear the ultimate event. This great nation will 
have what appears to itself a good government. Indeed, 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



303 



to say the truth, we have not now a bad one, though, 
like all human institutions, it might be improved. I 
wish I could see the people better. But the crying sin 
equally of our nation, and of yours, and of all com- 
mercial nations, the "auri sacra fames," goes on aug- 
menting with the growth of trade, of manufactures, of 
mechanical inventions, and even, I fear, with the diffusion 
of the elements of knowledge. To give men new wants 
is indeed the way to make them industrious, but it is 
also the way to make them rapacious, dishonest, gambling 
speculators, and in public life corrupt, 

Eeverting to what you say of the imputations cast on 
H. Martineau in your country, I think it due to her to 
state, that I have never heard of anything against her, 
and large allowances must be made for the hatred which 
she has meritoriously drawn upon herself from your 

slave-owners and their base abettors There are 

no new books much worth mentioning to you ; indeed, 
this is not the publishing season. I hope Hallams 
volume will soon appear. I hear he is now able to em- 
ploy himself, though still very sorrowful for the loss of a 
lovely, lovely daughter, who was his worthy pupil and 
delightful companion. 

Adieu, and believe me ever truly yours, 

L. Aiken. 



To Miss Aikix. 

Boston, February 7, IS 38. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I thank you for your good long 
letter ; but before answering it, let me ask you one or 
two questions, which I have more than once forgotten. 
What is the character of the " Philosophy of History, by 
George Miller"? I believe I have the title. What is 



304 



TO MISS AIKI2T. 



the merit of Alison's " French Eevolution "? By the way, 
have you read Carlyle's extraordinary History of that 
wonderful period ? Does it offend your classical taste ? 
It finds great favour with many intelligent people here. 
They seem to think that the muses of History and Poe- 
try have struck up a truce, and are henceforth to go on 
lovingly together. I must confess myself much inte- 
rested. Carlyle seems to be an example of the old proverb 
of "the prophet without honour in his own country." 
He has many ardent admirers here — so has German 
philosophy and German literature. You see we are not 
so hopelessly unenthusiastic as we are sometimes called. 
Your travellers look at the surface — but there is fire at 
the heart. 

You seem to think that I bear too hard on John Bull, 
that he is a more good-natured person than I suppose ; 
and in a former letter you spoke of your common people 
as free from cruelty. Different impressions prevail here. 
The boxing among that class seems not more humane 
than bull-baiting. We are told that the lower class are 
cruel to inferior animals ; and, still worse, that they are 
severe to their wives. Not long ago, a clerk in a church 
here, an Englishman, was complained of to the rector for 
whipping his wife. He (the rector) had been a good deal 
in England, and dismissed the complaint with much non- 
chalance, saying, that "the English whipped their wives." 

Your explanation of the influence of the aristocracy 
in England is satisfactory. It shows, however, the 
strength of the principle among you. Human nature 
has many hard battles to fight among you before its 
rights will be recognized, before the self-evident truth 
will be recognized that the inward is worth more than 
the outward, that humanity is worth more than its acci- 
dents. You will tell me that the aristocracy of commerce 
is worse than that of rank, and I shall not quarrel with you 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



305 



here. The aristocracy of wealth is good only as it is 
revolutionary, as it breaks down the old feudal one, as it 
stirs up the more depressed classes, and tends to mix all 
classes together. In itself it is low enough, and I can 
join with the old nobility in laughing at it. All these 
efforts of man to sever himself from his brother are my 
abhorrence; they must all yield to nobler sentiments. 
I have faith ; I am sure of this ; but when, I know not. 
You will think this is playing the prophet safely. 

We have had a new History here, the History of Fer- 
dinand and Isabella, said to be very good. Bancroft's 
History of America is much praised. We have a good 
deal of intellectual life ; I think increasing. Let me ask 
you a question of orthoepy. Do you in England pro- 
nounce the words " holy " and " wholly " alike ? If not, 
can you give me the difference ? 

Very truly your friend, 

W. E. Changing. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, April 18, 1838. 

Ah, how kind ! You write and thank me for a letter 
of I know not how old a date, when my conscience has 
been reproaching me, I know not how long, for leaving 
your last but one unanswered. But how could I write 
with any comfort so long as that sad Canada business 
remained unsettled? — whilst I could not tell whether 
violent spirits might not even make us foes — as far as 
national hostilities could render us so ? Happily, most 
happily, these fears are all at an end. We have all 
possible reason to praise and thank your government 
for its conduct towards us, and it has taken away our 
common notion that your central force wanted strength 



306 



TO DR. CHAINING, 



to control the self-will of your borderers. Democracy 
has done itself great honour by you. For a while, I 
knew not what to say for it, to myself or to anybody else, 
It is very difficult for our two nations to understand 
each other, yet I assure you I have long given your people 
credit for that " fire under snow " which some French- 
woman ascribes to Englishmen. With regard to our 
boxing-matches* I have only to say that they are not a 
popular amusement; being totally illegal, they are never 
held in cities, but only in by-places, and are frequented 
by few except those called, in slang phrase, "the Fancy" — 
that is, an assemblage of gamblers, sharpers, ruffians and 
profligates of every degree, from the duke to the chimney- 
sweeper. Eespectable men, even of the lower classes, 
never need witness them, and seldom do. I think I 
mentioned mercy to animals as rather a new feature of 
our national character, brought out by laws and educa- 
tion. The same causes have produced a striking amend- 
ment in respect of profane swearing ; I am told that no 
member of a mechanics' institute ever utters an oath, 
and even coachmen and cabmen shock the ears less than 
formerly. Your rector who said the English whipped 
their wives, I take to have been regardless of truth ; at 
least, in my whole life, I never either read or heard of 
one single instance of that infliction ; though of many, 
alas ! of husbands injuring, or even killing, their wives 
by kicks and blows of the fist. In ninety-nine cases 
out of the hundred, intoxication— either of the man, the 
woman, or both — is the occasion of these brutalities. If, 
or let us say when, we grow more temperate, we shall 
mend in this point. Our law does what it can for beaten 
wives, by binding husbands over, on complaint, to keep 
the peace; and I am told that the merest clown feels 

* Since this was written, the United States have sent us their Heenan 
to meet our Tom Sayers. 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



307 



deeply the disgrace of this, and seldom offends again. 
Paddy is a much more frequent offender, by pugnacity 
of every kind, than cooler John Bull or Sandy. 

iSTo ! — born champion of my sex, as I may almost call 
myself — I say deliberately, on good knowledge and care- 
ful consideration, that there are only two points in which 
it seems to me that our laws bear hard on women. The 
first is, in the want of a stricter hand against the in- 
veiglers of girls for wicked purposes ; the second, in the 
full power which the father is still allowed to retain 
over his children when his offences have compelled an 
innocent wife to obtain a divorce from him. It is surely 
most monstrous that a woman should be restrained from 
separating herself, under circumstances of the most 
aggravated offence, from a brutal and unfaithful hus- 
band, by his inhuman threats of never letting her see 
her children more— of placing her daughters under the 
very care of his mistress — a menace which I know to 
have been uttered ! 

On carefully comparing the Code Xapoleon with ours, 
I am convinced that we have the advantage of French 
women. Yet, understand me not as admitting that we 
have nothing to complain of. Society wrongs us where 
the laws do not. The life of a woman is esteemed of less 
value than that of a man. J uries of men are very re- 
luctant to punish the slayer of his wife as a murderer. 
Her testimony is undervalued ; men-juries often discredit 
her evidence against a worse than murderer. She is 
wounded by the privileged insolence of masculine dis- 
course. "Woman and fool/' says spiteful Pope, and 
dunces echo him. Any feeble-minded man is an " old 
woman;' 5 fathers cry out to their boys in petticoats not 
to care what their elder sisters say to them. These and 
the like insults, when my blood was hotter than now it 
is, have cost me many a bitten lip, One of our legal 



308 



TO DR. CHANGING, 



exemptions signally offends me. It is that which grants 
impunity even for felony committed by a wife in pre- 
sence and under control of her husband. Has a married 
woman, then, no moral freedom ? Must her vow of 
obedience' include even crime ? Surely this disgraceful 
exemption ought now, at least, to be withdrawn, when 
that immoral vow is no longer an essential of the mar- 
riage rite. On the whole, however, I think the present 
age is more favourable to our sex than any former one. 
Women are now, with us at least, free of the whole circle 
of arts and sciences ; they have neither ridicule nor 
obloquy to encounter in devoting themselves to almost 
any department of knowledge. All men of merit are 
forward in cheering them on ; they are more free than 
ever. Alas ! I speak of women, but you may say I only 
mean gentlewomen. In truth, I can speak of none else 
with personal knowledge — the miserable drudges, the 
beaten and half-famished wives, and a class still more 
miserable, are never seen, never heard of by me in my 
tranquil home. I know not whether it ought to humble 
me — perhaps not, all things considered— but the fact is 
that I know scarcely more by actual survey of the dwell- 
ings, the manners, the characters of the most numerous 
class in England, or even in Hampstead, than of the in- 
habitants of Pekin. As to the attachment of women to 
priests, it is curious to observe how little there was of it 
in England a century ago. Kecollect how bitterly Swift 
complains of their contempt for divines, and exclusive 
preference of beaux and the military. Ladies are, no 
doubt, much superior now in education, tastes, and 
manners, to that generation : then they played quadrille ; 
now they read theology, and attend lectures, and gather 
pence for missions and Bible societies. In this country 
we are subject to rages, and these things are, or have 
been, the rage amongst us. But the influence of the 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



309 



clergy over women is so natural, that the wonder is to 
find that it was ever suspended. They seize the female 
soul both by its strong and its weak sides— its spiri- 
tuality, its thirst after perfection, its docility, its hopes, 
its fears, its melancholy, its lively and often ill-regu- 
lated imagination, and its general averseness or incapa- 
city for close reasoning. And this last defect, little is 
done by modern systems of culture to correct. I see 
numbers of men, and a still greater proportion of women, 
full of acquirement and accomplishment, but mere chil- 
dren in reason — absolutely destitute of the first ele- 
ments of philosophy, and willing to give up their souls 
to the guidance of the first who will take the charge. 
Many times of late it has been a project with me to 
write something or other respecting us Englishwomen ; 
but, alas ! I have lost all energy, and my projects come 
to nothing. If you were to lay your commands upon 
me to write you some letters on this subject, perhaps 
— for think what I have just said of clerical influence 
over us— and I declare that if any reverend gentleman 
has power over me, it is you. 

Carlyle does offend my classical taste ; but the worst 
of it is that I have been absolutely riveted to his first 
volume, which I have this minute finished, and that I 
am hungering for the next. A very extraordinary writer 
certainly, and though somewhat, I must think, of a jar- 
gonist, and too wordy and full of repetition, yet sagacious, 
if not profound, and wonderfully candid. I think, too, 
that he shows an exactness and extent of knowledge of 
his subject which very advantageously distinguishes him 
from poetical historians in general. I assure you he is 
not without enthusiastic admirers here ; his lectures on 
German literature last year were a good deal talked of ; 
and I see he has announced a new course on general 
literature, which I must inquire about. I am ready to 



310 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



hail almost any striking phenomenon in literature ; we 
have had little but mediocrity lately. Of your two books, 
" Miller " and " Alison/' no notice whatever has come to 
my ears. I have just heard that " Alison " is praised 
in " Blackwood/ 5 therefore ultra-Tory. If they be new 
works, as I suppose, the first cannot be written by 
Professor M. of Glasgow, nor the second by Alison (of 
Taste), who is now very old and quite infirm ; I believe 
it is his son. 

Pray read Guizot's " Histoire de la Civilisation en 
Europe/' a small book which will give you much matter 
of thought. 

No, our pattern speakers do not confound holy and 
wholly ; to the short vowel in the last word they give a 
sound between o and u, if you can imagine it. Trent- 
north, a grand boundary of dialect, the . provincials say 
woley or wooley, and in Norfolk they say hully ; but stick 
you to wholly if you would pass for a member of your 
much-respected the English aristocracy. 

I really am totally unable to understand your faith in 
the coming of a time when all men will be regarded by 
all as equals. Such a time can plainly not come with- 
out community of goods, and to that I see no tendency ; 
nor can it arrive whilst any division of labour exists. As 
long as one man works only with his hands and another 
with his head, there will be inequality between them of 
the least conventional kind ; inequality in knowledge, 
in the objects of thought, in the estimate of existence, 
and of all that makes it desirable. Among the rudest 
savages there has always been inequality, produced by 
that nature itself which gives to one man more strength 
and more understanding than another; and all the re- 
finements of social life open fresh sources of inequality. 
Even in a herd of wild cattle there is inequality pro- 
duced by differences of age, and sex, and size; and what 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



311 



imaginable power or process can ever bring human crea- 
tures to a parity ? As little can I see bow sucb a state 
would be the practical assertion of the preference due to 
the " inward over the outward/' to " humanity over its 
accidents." Are not many of these sources of inequality 
really inward ? Are not these accidents inseparable from 
humanity? The things which elevate man above his 
fellows are aRpoivers of one kind or other: wealth is a 
power, since it can purchase gratifications and sendees ; 
birth is a power, where the laws have made it the 
condition of enjoying privileges or authority: where 
they have not done so, it speedily sinks into contempt. 
Genius is a power ; weight of moral character is a power ; 
beauty is a power ; knowledge is a power. The possessor 
of any of these goes with his talent to the market of life, 
and obtains with it or for it what others think it worth 
their while to give — some more, some less. Can or ought 
this to be otherwise ? The precious gifts of nature must 
be valued so long as humanity is what it is ; the results 
of application, of exertion, mental, bodily, cannot cease 
to bear their price without deadening all the active 
principles in man. I see, indeed, a tendency in high 
civilization to break down in some degree the ancient 
barriers between class and class, by opening new roads 
to wealth, to fame, and to social distinction. "Watt and 
Davy, Eeynolds and Flaxman, could not safely be treated 
with disdain either by Howards and Mowbrays, or by 
the " millionaires " of commerce ; but this does not assist 
those who have nothing to rest upon but mere human 
nature itself. These may be equal to their more privi- 
leged brethren before God ; they may and ought to be 
equal in the eye of the law; but socially equal — I do not 
see the possibility. You approve the aristocracy of wealth 
so far as it tends to break in upon that of rank, and to 
mix all classes — but how far would you carry this mix- 



312 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



ture? Shall I begin tea-drinkings with my maudlin 
washerwoman ? Will you invite to your table the bow- 
legged snip who made your coat ? How soon, alas ! at 
this rate, would the rivulet of refinement be swallowed 
up in the ocean of vulgarity ! "What models would 
remain of manners, of language, of taste in literature or 
the arts ! What a mere worky-day world would this 
become ! The coarse themselves would grow coarser, 
and in the end sensuality would rise victorious over all. 
The opinions in which all could agree must be absurd 
and extravagant ones; for, as Locke observes, "Truth 
and reason did never yet carry it by the majority any- 
where." The talk in which all can join is seldom such 
as any one is much the better for hearing. If it be true 
that " there is no man of merit but hath a touch of singu- 
larity, and scorns something/' surely merit must always 
be allowed to scorn ignorance or grossness incapable of 
estimating it ; and this cannot but include a kind of dis- 
dain of the society of the lower classes. Pray answer me 
all this, for I think I must have misapprehended your 
idea. 

Not yet have I thanked you for your two kind pre- 
sents of your " Temperance " and your " Texas." I 
admire the first particularly for its discrimination, by 
speaking of the Temperance Societies as symptoms, 
rather than causes ; you have explained what I before 
thought a puzzling phenomenon. I could, if my paper 
allowed, cavil at your opinions on public amusements ; 
but another time. " Texas " seems to me your greatest 
effort yet. May success reward the patriotic virtue which 
inspired it ! 

Ever believe me, my respected friend, 
Yours most truly/ 

L. AlKIN. 



TO DR. CHAXNIXG-. 



313 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hanrpstead, July 16, 1838. 

My dear Friend, — There are two urgent reasons why 
I must make Mr. Gannet the bearer of a letter to you : 
first, because it is always a pleasure to me to send you a 
friendly greeting ; and secondly, because I wish, whilst 
the impression is still fresh, to express the gratification 
I have felt in his society, and to thank you for the intro- 
duction. On his first arrival here, the lamentable state 
of his health and spirits obscured, though they could 
not quite conceal, his admirable talents and qualities ; 
but they now shine forth, and we all find him an exceed- 
ingly interesting companion. Of his powers as a preacher 
I have not enabled myself to judge, but I can bear strong 
testimony to the perfect modesty and simplicity with 
which he receives tokens of a success which would be 
sufficient to turn most heads. Mrs. Joanna Baillie told 
him truly, that he had been talked of at a time when 
we had scarcely leisure to talk of any one — so full were 
all heads with our grand Coronation ; and I never saw 
anything more beautiful than the unaffected, modest 
dignity with which he received the compliment — it 
would have delighted you to witness. He carries back 
with him the esteem and good wishes of all whose testi- 
mony is worth having, in spite of very industrious efforts 
to injure him — I believe you know from what quarter. 

And what have you thought of the fever-fit of loyalty 
which has seized "universal England" on occasion of 
setting the crown on the head of our young Queen ? 
Perchance you may have viewed it somewhat in the 
spirit of the laughing philosopher ; but if you had been 
an eye-witness of what passed, I think you would have 
sympathized in our emotions more deeply than you now 

p 



314 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



believe possible. This young creature has thus far con- 
ducted herself most admirably. Her behaviour at her 
first council was described to me by an excellent judge 
who was present, as combining the highest degrees both 
of self-possession and of sensibility compatible each 
with the other, and such has been the complexion of all 
her conduct since. Her steadfast adherence to a Eeforni- 
ing ministry has been of inestimable value to the cause 
of liberality and improvement ; her perseverance in the 
same course is what we have most to wish, and to let 
her see the popular attachment which it has already 
gained for her seemed the most likely means of secur- 
ing this great object. The people have to support her 
against the aristocracy, and I have heard it said, I believe 
with as much truth as point, that the ministry is kept 
in place by the Queen and the shopkeepers. In the 
meantime, it seems to me that we are going on well ; 
reforms proceeding slow and sure, and decidedly the 
tone of at least a large portion of society becoming con- 
stantly more liberal, both in religion and politics — the 
natural effect of the continuance of a Whig and Low- 
church administration. I perceive signs also of a revival 
of literature, which now again is able to hold up its head 
in the presence of science, by which it was for some 
time in apparent danger of being totally overshadowed. 
In particular it pleases me to perceive that historical 
literature is cultivated with great activity, for which 
there are two obvious causes : a state of public feeling 
which allows history to be written freely without in- 
curring persecution either from the government or the 
mob ; and, with respect to our own country, a great 
accession of new information from the printing of the 
public records. 

These favouring circumstances, I think, will enable 
even me to conquer my long desponding indolence, and 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



315 



attempt a new design. My plan is not yet matured, 
but it is only entre notes that I give any hint of it ; but 
I am turning my thoughts towards something like a 
view of letters and social life in England during the 
first sixty years of the last century, i.e. the reigns of 
Anne and the two first Georges. This will differ from 
my former works in excluding civil history entirely, for 
which I could not now undertake the labour of collect- 
ing materials, and my chief doubt at present is, how far 
the work can be rendered sufficiently interesting with- 
out it. I must intersperse biography largely ; and I 
propose entering deeply into the subject of female man- 
ners and acquirements. At present I am only collecting 
materials, but that is no disagreeable or uninteresting 
part of the business. You may infer from my enter- 
taining so bold a design that my health is stronger than 
it was, and I expect to find it still further benefited by 
plunging into business, which will alleviate the constant 
weight upon the spirits of domestic solitude. 

I wonder whether you have ever been a great stu- 
dent of the works of Addison, especially of his periodical 
papers. It seems to me that justice has not even yet 
been done, or at least is not done in this generation, to 
his unrivalled merits. To women he was the greatest 
of benefactors. By his arch ridicule and gentle repre- 
hension of their follies, especially of their idleness and 
their ignorance, he worked a wide reformation. By 
teaching them to deserve the respect of the other sex, 
he enabled them to secure it. ISTo systematic advocate 
of the rights of woman, especially none who is herself 
a woman, will ever, we may safely predict, do them half 
so much service. I have a good many remarks to make 
on this topic, which I believe will be new, and I hope 
may be useful. 

Did I not say to you in my last letter, that a gay 



316 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



young, play-going Queen would make a formidable coun- 
teraction to the progress of the Evangelicals ? I will now 
add that they have been receiving a great injury from 
the hands of their own adherents — the sons and bio- 
graphers of Mr. Wilberforce. The book is luckily so 
tiresome as well as so sour and so narrow, that it meets 
with general abuse, in spite of the efforts of the Edin- 
burgh reviewer, a nephew of Mr. "Wilberforce. Every- 
body sticks fast in the perusal, and it has damaged the 
subject of the book scarcely less than its authors. It is 
plain that whatever other merits Mr. Wilberforce might 
have, he was by no means a man of strong understand- 
ing ; and the curious disclosure of his practice of wearing 
pebbles in his shoes by way of penance, is little likely to 
do him honour with the English of the nineteenth century. 
The Life of Hannah More was a much more readable book 
than this, because she both wrote and received many 
agreeable letters before her conversion; but even that 
made no great noise out of her own set, and I believe did 
no good to her cause. Our rigorists of the Establishment 
seem now to be swinging towards that kind of High- 
churchism which is but just to be distinguished from 
Popery ; which will do less harm, because less likely to 
be taken up with enthusiasm by the common people, 
than the high Calvinism of the Evangelicals. The intoler- 
ance and the pharisaical arrogance of the two systems 
is much alike. 

One trait of popular sentiment which I observed in 
watching the Coronation procession may interest you. 
There was vast applause of the Queen, great applause of 
her mother and of your friend the Duke of Sussex, and 
a kind recognition of the other members of the royal 
family ; there was generous applause of Soult, because 
we had formerly beaten him, but not the slightest notice 
of any other foreigner. The ambassadors-extraordinary 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



317 



might display as much pomp as they would, and certainly 
such splendour of equipages had never before been ex- 
hibited in the streets of London; still honest John 
remained obstinately mute, or contented himself with 
whispering, " Depend upon it, those coaches are English 
built, and the horses bought here." Whence I infer, 
that national pride was the leading principle in the 
popular mind ; such part of the show as each man might 
tell himself he had helped to pay for delighted him ; the 
rest rather provoked his surliness, and he was little dis- 
posed to thank foreign kings for all their civilities. 

I trust your pen is not idle ; you must go on writing, 
if it were only for the sake of your public here, which 
becomes a wider one with every new piece you give us. 
Texas we most of us consider as your best effort. 
Pray believe me ever 

Yours, with the truest regard, 

L. Ajein. 



To Miss Atktn. 

August 24, 1838. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I thank you for your letter of 
July 16. I do not know that I had earned it by answer- 
ing your preceding, and I therefore hasten to reply, though 
I have not time to say much. Your pages did not over- 
flow as usual ; I wish you to feel that you cannot write 
too much. I was amused by your notice of the Corona- 
tion. I should undoubtedly have smiled, as you sup- 
pose, at the vain show had I been present; but I am not 
sure that I should not have shed tears too. The enthu- 
siasm of a multitude is the most contagious thing on 
earth. The last thing I could resist is a universal, deep 



318 



TO MISS ATKIN". 



feeling essentially generous. My reason, however, would 
have thrown a good deal of cold water on the fire. I 
have no great respect for what is called national senti- 
ment, though I think it holds a useful place in carrying 
a man beyond lower workings of selfishness, and in many 
minds it has even some disinterested elements. I see 
in it signs of what man may be. It is no sign that he 
is such already. As to loyalty too, this has something 
generous in it, at least as called forth at a Coronation ; 
for on such occasions, the imagination of the multitude 
invests the idol with the greatest attributes of which it 
has any comprehension, and the worship is addressed to 
something more than human. It is painful, however, to 
see the noblest sentiments of human nature wasted on 
what is of little worth. Misplaced veneration has ever 
been one of the chief pillars of priestcraft and despotism, 
so that man has been degraded by the very principle 
which was meant to connect him with greatness. But 
let me stop. I am beginning to be too grave. Your Coro- 
nation, I believe, was one of the most innocent.- I like 
your young Queen much, from what I hear of her, and 
I have no great fear that she is to bring back chivalry 
and the dark ages. Men's positive interests, if not their 
principles, are too strong for this. I believe, as you say, 
the abstract love of monarchy is not growing strong 
among you, and yet I do not think your monarchy un- 
safe. It rests more and more on a rational foundation, 
and this in the long run is the strongest. You all feel 
that, in your present civilization, the highest office in the 
state is too great and dazzling a prize to be thrown open 
to competition. You see reasons for the Throne, and 
therefore it can stand without reproach. But the reasons 
for an aristocracy are beyond my comprehension. The 
relations of the aristocracy to the government seem to 
me reversed by the changes of society ; and instead of 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



319 



making property more secure, it is perhaps more likely 
than anything else to cause a rising against property. 
It is every clay taking an attitude which must prove fatal 
to it, that is, of hostility to public opinion — not to gusts 
of opinion, but to opinion as determined by the progress 
of society. I feel that these are views which need a good 
deal of explanation, but I feel more and more the error 
of applying our old notions about forms of government 
to the present state of the world. 

I am glad you have found a subject, and I like it much. 
I enter fully into what you say about Addison. He is 
my delight, strange as you may think it. My style, 
indeed, is anything but Addisonian ; but I do not enjoy 
him the less on that account. His nameless grace is 
quite out of my reach ; and when I read him, I think of 
my style as badly as the Edinburgh Eeviewers do. My 
position has hurt me as a writer. I have grown up 
amidst war, and this makes a man strain himself : but 
my taste for the truly simple has not been lost. You 
are not quite just to Mr. Wilberforce. I saw him in 
London, and could not but respect him, though I saw 
not a sign of intellectual superiority. He asked me 
about the Unitarians of Boston, not suspecting me of 
the heresy; and when I told him that I was one (though 
some of his family did not receive the communication 
with the kindness which hospitality required), the good 
old man went on to talk with undiminished complacency. 
On my leaving him, he took me into his study, gave me 
to understand that he thought more of a man's temper 
and spirit than opinions, and chose to write my name 
and his own on a pamphlet which he presented as a 
memorial of our interview. I doubt not he had force, 
though I did not see it, and he certainly had goodness. 

Your sincere friend, 

Wm, E. Chaxxixo. 



320 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, November 16, 1838, 

My dear Friend, — You like overflowing letters, you 
say, and I have no great difficulty in finding materials 
for such in writing to you ; the worst is, that I grow 
tired, throw aside the half-filled sheet, and leave it in 
my writing-desk till it is too stale to send. This is 
what has happened now. T have just condemned a frag- 
ment to the flames, and whether this present attempt 
will have better success remains to be seen. You 
inquired if I had read Preseott's " Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella f and hearing much of the work, particularly that 
so excellent a judge as Lord Holland called it the best 
History written in English since Gibbon, I was unwill- 
ing to write till I had at least seen something of it. I 
have now finished the first volume and entered upon 
the second, with very great satisfaction. The spirit and 
sentiment of the work is admirable ; there is enough of 
reflection, and not too much; the narrative is lively and 
flowing; and great judgment is shown in the propor- 
tions assigned to the various topics on which it treats. 
It is entertaining, with every mark of strict adherence 
to truth, and instructive, without deep philosophy in- 
deed, or sententiousness of remark ; but by means of a 
pervading spirit of candour, good sense and liberality, 
the interest of the subject hurries one on, at first read- 
ing,' too fast, I believe, for the credit of the writer ; and 
I have little doubt that a second perusal would disclose 
many fresh merits of detail. As for the style — the dic- 
tion rather — it is pretty good for an American. " Civil !" 
cry you ; but like our Members of Parliament, I dis- 
claim " any personal application." In fact, it is not in 
a style like yours, which neither is nor ought to be 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



321 



a colloquial one, that any difference from that of an 
Englishman can be detected. Neither, indeed, is Mr. 
Prescott chargeable with using words or phrases peculiar 
to your country, If it were possible in these days of 
steamers and railroads to imagine an Englishman pos- 
sessed of the knowledge and literary talent of this 
writer, who should never have mingled with the good 
society of London, he might be expected to compose in 
the same style — that is to say, provided he had never 
made a study of his own language. He, like Mr. Pres- 
cott, might employ the Scotch term "a border foray;" 
he might call artizans operatives, the slang word of 
Glasgow weavers ; he might transplant from the news- 
papers, French, military, and other terms; he might, per- 
haps, want the tact to exclude from the style of history 
several mere colloquialisms, as well as corrupt uses of 
words which might be enumerated. Considering this 
work as one which will attain a permanent station in 
English literature, I cannot but regret these blemishes, 
and wish to .see them removed in another edition. But 
there is a special reason why I mention them to you, 
which is this. You tell me you can see no use in our 
aristocracy. This is a use — to establish a standard of 
taste and refinement in language as in manners ; to 
rebuke pedantry ; to set a mark upon ignorance, pro- 
vincialism and vulgarity ; to preserve the native tongue 
in equal purity and vigour. r>o one, without having 
frequented those London circles where lettered men and 
women of rank associate with lettered men and women 
without rank, can form a just conception of the grace 
and beauty of which our language is susceptible in its 
colloquial forms. ISTo one without this advantage can 
attain finished elegance in any style of composition, 
except the most grave and dignified — that of the pulpit 
and the schools; at least, such attainment is so rare, 

p 3 



322 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



that when we meet with it, as in the works of that low 
Irishman Goldsmith, it fills us with surprise as much 
as admiration. No Scotchman has ever accomplished 
a perfect English style. Blair and Eobertson escaped 
faults by rejecting all idiom from their composition ; 
but at the expense of all originality and charm. Hume 
supplied his want of English idiom and disdain of Scotch 
by seizing upon French phrases. Burns, in prose, wrote 
no language at all ; and Walter Scott is full of pro- 
vincialisms and barbarisms, some of which, through his 
popularity, threaten to naturalize themselves amongst 
us. Charles Lamb, a Londoner, gained a pure and very 
racy English by study of our old writers, especially the 
dramatists, but he acquired at the same time a quaint- 
ness which only the best society could have taught him 
to discard. Dryden, Cowley and Addison, our three 
great masters in the middle style of composition, all 
lived first with scholars, as they were themselves, and 
afterwards with courtiers, nobles, statesmen, great law- 
yers and great ladies. A sound classical education, with 
assiduous study of our best writers, might indeed suffice 
to forming a pure and correct style, provided their effects 
were not counteracted by hearing vulgar speech and 
reading the bad writers of the day ; but in general all 
people read the current trash more or less, and those 
who have no access to elegant speakers will scarcely 
escape the infection derived from coarse ones. An upper 
class, a metropolis, and a court, can alone preserve the 
language of an extensive empire. Therefore, woe unto 
you Americans ! It amuses me to think that I, who 
have all my life belonged to the democratic party, and 
have earned the lasting enmity of the admirers of King 
Charles and his cavaliers, should, with you, take the 
part of a champion of monarchy and aristocracy. You 
may place it, if you will, to the account of that spirit 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



323 



which the lords of creation affirm to be so prevalent in 
our much-libelled sex. But when you profess that " the 
reasons for an aristocracy are beyond your comprehen- 
sion/' I own I wonder a little. Allowing that I may be 
too much inclined, as Bacon said of James I. 3 " to take 
counsel of times past/' I still must hold that a philo- 
sophical thinker ought not to shut his eyes to the large 
fact that, until the establishment of your States, the 
whole world, as far as it is known to us by history, had 
never seen a nation, barbarous or civilized, destitute of 
some kind of hereditary nobility or aristocracy, excepting 
those Eastern monarchies where all were equal, because 
all were nothing, beneath the rod of the despot. A coun- 
terbalance to the absolute power, whether of a king or 
a people, has the most obvious utility, and I offer it 
for your consideration, whether that very propensity to 
form associations which you have found it necessary to 
rebuke in your own country, is not the consequence of 
the want of one. In a land where " the right divine of 
rpjohs to govern wrong " is consecrated as a first prin- 
ciple, how can any sect or any party propose to itself 
another mode of carrying its points, than persuading 
or compelling the adherence of a numerical majority ? 
Where the co-operation of king, nobles and people, is 
required to every public measure, all interests must be 
consulted ; that even of the few must not be absolutely 
sacrificed to the many ; reason, justice, fairness, must be 
allowed their plea ; above all, full liberty of speech is 
secured. In a despotism, whether of one, of the few, or 
of the many, " sic volo, sic jubeo," is sufficient. With 
regard to our nobility, every impartial person who will 
study thoroughly the history of its political conduct, 
must own this : that it gained Magna Charta ; that it 
opposed effectual resistance to the despotism of the 
Church and its head, and the introduction of the slavish 



324 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



maxims of the civil law ; that it controlled in many 
important instances the encroachments of our kings ; 
that in the great struggle of Charles and his Parliament 
it endeavoured, however vainly, to hold the balance ; 
that it gave many confessors to the cause of liberty, 
several distinguished generals to the people, and that 
the abolition of its constitutional powers was one of 
the most guilty acts of the military usurper ; that it gave 
us our glorious and bloodless Eevolution, and by its 
resistance to a Tory House of Commons, Tory squires, 
and Tory clergy, saved us from the return of the tyran- 
nical and bigoted Stuarts ; that even at the present day 
a majority of the high and old aristocracy, which owes 
not its honours to the trade-pampering policy of Pitt, 
adheres to Whig principles, though it repudiates Kadi- 
calism, that is, the supremacy of the rude and selfish 
and ignorant many. With such past claims to our grati- 
tude, and in my opinion so much of advantage to be 
hoped from it for the future, I say to the illustrious 
order, with all its faults, its errors, sometimes its pro- 
voking obstinacy— " Esto perpetual" Were you more 
intimately acquainted with the feelings of our people, 
I believe you would soon renounce the opinion that the 
existence of the aristocracy endangers property. One 
proof of the contrary is, that those notable public meet- 
ings in which the working-men take care to show our 
optimists how very little their notions have advanced 
since the days of Jack Cade, all take place in manufac- 
turing towns — the very places in which the aristocracy 
do not reside and exercise no influence. Even in London, 
where the influence of the aristocracy is rather that of 
the class than of individuals, the ultra-Kadicals could 
make no hand of it ; indeed, I believe they are every- 
where pining away under the contempt of their supe- 
riors and the neglect of the Attorney -general. Ignorance 



TO MISS ATKTNT 



325 



is weakness. Ignorant I believe the bulk of our spinners 
and weavers must in the nature of things always remain. 
In your young and unexhausted country, with land 
cheap and labour dear, all is different. May you be able 
to realize the beautiful idea of a nation self-governed 
with wisdom and justice ! With us, the old distinction 
of governors and governed must still subsist ; but we 
may indulge the hope that public opinion, which in all 
classes above the very lowest has made, and is daily 
making, a real progress in light and liberality, will irre- 
sistibly urge upon rulers a constant attention to the 
interests of those who know not what is truly good for 
themselves. Thus only can we hope to see them pre- 
serve that " national feeling " which, cheap as you may 
hold it, Mr. Burke truly entitled " the cheap defence of 
nations/' Since beginning this letter I have been pro- 
ceeding with " Ferdinand and Isabella" with still in- 
creasing interest and approbation, and I beg that when 
you write you will give me any particulars you think 
proper of the author, as I cannot help feeling great desire 
to know something of his personal history. What think 
you of our new Oxford set of Laudists or semi-Eoman- 
ists ? They at least serve as counterbalance to our Evan- 
gelicals. I must now conclude, having an immediate 
opportunity of sending my letter to London. 

Ever truly yours, 
___ L. A rem. 

To Miss A mm. 

Boston, Jan. 15, 1839. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I thank you for your aris- 
tocratical letter, and not the less for its opposition to 
my own opinions. How we should fight our battles in 
the same room may be questioned, but battles across 



326 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



the ocean are bloodless, and cannot harm, but rather 
strengthen, such an old friendship as ours. I have no 
disposition to fight out the historical argument for aris- 
tocracy. In barbarous times, barbarous institutions have 
their use. In the infancy of European society, a brute 
force was needed to hold men together, and the bloody 
barons performed this part to admiration. It was a lion 
rule, but better than no rule. Eoyalty and the priest- 
hood, comparatively moral powers, fortunately sprung 
up to share the spoils; and through the conflicts of these 
different usurpations, a new power was gradually deve- 
loped, that of the people, of the human race. Gradually 
the people learned, and their masters learned, that they 
were made for some other purpose than to be ruled, and 
they are now spelling out the lesson that the million 
are not only something, but even more important than the 
few. Aristocracy is no longer what it was. Its original 
relation to society is changed, and its great function now, 
which is to represent and protect property, is rendered 
unnecessary by the character of our civilization, which 
worships property, and secures it, not by concentration, 
but by diffusion. Aristocracy is a caste, has the spirit of 
a caste, legislates as a caste. Is not the world fast out- 
growing it ? Is it fitted to the great work of our times, 
which is that of raising the mass of the people to the 
rank of men ? Must it not die, in proportion as a just 
respect for the human being, as reverence for what is 
truly, essentially and eternally venerable, spreads through 
a community ? I was much gratified with your account 
of the highly polished and intellectual society produced 
by the meeting of men of rank and men of letters in 
London. I should enjoy it much as one of the phases of 
humanity. How far I should enjoy it as society, I am 
more in doubt. Eeserved as I am thought to be, I 
delight in the free, the spontaneous, in social intercourse. 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



327 



I love to see people in earnest, and this is hardly con- 
sistent with strict observance of all the rules of good 
breeding. A man speaking from the heart, will insist, 
too much for the comfort of all, on what he feels — will 
forget some conventional observance — will sometimes 
trouble us with his idiosyncracies ; and yet, as we cannot 
have all good things, but must make our choice, I incline 
to the earnest man. The fundamental rule of polished 
society I take to be to spare your neighbour's self-love 
to the greatest possible degree, — a very good rule as the 
world goes ; but, for myself, I would rather read a good 
book in my study than mix much with society which 
rests on such a basis. I must go into society, not first 
and chiefly to please or be pleased, but to be true to 
inyself and my convictions, to speak and act from the 
highest in my own breast, and to require the true, genu- 
ine and pure in others. On this foundation build the 
graceful, the ornamental, the amusing, the winning, as 
much as you please ; but leave me something firm to 
stand on. I have feared that intercourse with people of 
rank would receive a taint from their consciousness of 
superiority founded on mere outward distinctions. This 
I suppose is smothered a good deal in courtesy. But 
" what is in will out!' I have seen great courtesy which 
said, " Keep your distance/' Still, I doubt not there is 
a charm in the society you describe, and that the art 
of communication is better understood among you than 
here, where we go into society to rest after labour, more 
than to exert our powers. 

I come now to what chiefly stirred me up to answer 
your letter so promptly. I want to know something 
about the Popish explosion at Oxford. I am more inte- 
rested in it because it does not seem to me a mercenary 
cry of " Church and State," to answer the low purposes 
of the priest and Tory, but a genuine fanaticism or enthu- 



328 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



siasm, which has generally something respectable in it. 
Does the infection spread ? How is it regarded by men 
of influence in the Church? Is it a signal of the old 
leaven of Popery working extensively in the Church? 
I want next to know how I am to interpret the bigoted 
assaults on the bishops who subscribed for Dr. Carpenter's 
and Mr. Turner's books. Is such intolerance a safe game 
in the Church ? Will public opinion allow it ? I read 
an extract of the Bishop of Durham's letter, in which he 
seemed to cower before the fierce spirit of his adversaries, 
and to write as if it were worth a man's character to 
express common humanity towards the Dissenters. I 
would fain hope that this energy of intolerance is the 
energy of despair. Is it so ? I think little at present 
about your politics, though always grateful for your 
views on the subject, but the state of religious liberty 
among you always interests me. 

You ask about Mr. Prescott. He is a quiet student, 
a man of great modesty, highly esteemed by his friends 
as a man, and the more to be honoured because he has 
carried on his great work amidst outward prosperity, 
which has relieved him from all necessity of labour, and 
opened to him all the indulgences of life. 

Very sincerely your friend, 

W. E. Changing. 

To Miss Aikin * 

Boston, February, 1837. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I have received your letter of 
Dec. 10, and am grieved by the account you give of 
yourself. Your mental state requires change of place, 
and it seems you cannot bear travelling. I trust that I 

* This letter is misplaced : it should have followed Miss Aikin's letter 
of the 10th December, 1836. 



TO MISS AIKIK 



329 



have done you good by furnishing you with a motive to 
the effort of writing a letter. If so, go on writing, and do 
good to more than yourself. Your incapacity of exertion 
comes, I am sure, from a physical cause. Perhaps, how- 
ever, it is aggravated by a moral one. Perhaps your 
inability " to fix your mind on any pursuit " would not 
be so painfully felt, had you concentrated your soul 
more on some great object. I have often been struck 
with seeing the power of a great idea, especially of a 
noble one, in neutralizing adverse influences, in over- 
coming painful sensations, in giving the soul something 
to cling to and sympathize with in all changes. Litera- 
ture, by furnishing a succession of agreeable engagements, 
is undoubtedly a great protection against weariness; but 
it cannot satisfy us either in the most earnest and solemn 
or the most languid hours of life. Besides, by scatter- 
ing the mind among a great variety of objects which 
have little connection, it may prevent that unity of our 
inward being which is the secret of strength to do and 
to suffer. The great idea of Christianity seems to me 
alone equal to the wants of our nature. It reveals an 
infinite end, an ultimate good, on which all things may 
be made to bear, and is, in this and other ways, a per- 
petual spring of interesting thoughts and efforts. 

I am glad you turned your attention to Coleridge's 
Eemains. I am now in your condition, shut up very 
much by indisposition and cut off from labour, though 
hoping for release very soon, and I am reading the 
same book. Coleridge's worship of Shakspeare seems 
to me to have been one of his most innocent excesses. 
Was it not a good ? Where else could he have found 
an influence so fitted to counteract his morbid ten- 
dencies and errors ? Coleridge, I believe, loved truth ; 
but, I fear, he loved more that subtle, refined action 
of mind, by which he was authorized in his own judg- 



330 



TO MISS AIKEN. 



ment to look down with contempt on the common 
judgments of men. After wandering in his regions of 
mist and abstraction, what a benefit to him must it have 
been to enter the clear, mild, beautiful daylight of Shak- 
speare ! The influence of Shakspeare on English (I 
include American) literature is invaluable. It is impos- 
sible, whilst he is made the great standard, is enthroned 
in the general mind, is more universally read and ad- 
mired than any other author, that a false, perverted, 
unnatural taste should long prevail in any literary 
department. 

It is so long since I read Don Quixote, that I cannot 
judge as well as you can of Coleridge's criticisms on it. 
I observed one inconsistency. In one place he excul- 
pates the knight from vanity, and in another charges 
him with it in a very selfish form. He is right in the 
first instance. The knight had identified himself too 
entirely with his romantic ideas to be personally vain. 
It was not from self-love, but pure admiration, that he 
aimed to realize what he had read. I see that you enjoy 
Don Quixote more than I have done. To me, the book 
seems to have a great defect. I love and respect the 
hero too much to consent to the indignities with which 
he is treated. He carries my sympathies too much with 
him, and I am ready to fight his battles for him. I must 
confess, too, that I have little relish for the wit which 
lies in blows. I suspect there is something wrong in 
myself when I differ from the general sentiment, but I 
believe there is something right too in my feelings on 
this point. I fear that I have not expressed enough in 
these remarks my admiration of " Coleridge's Kemains." 
Few writers give me such an impulse. His invectives 
against my religious peculiarities pass me as the idle 
wind. I hardly give them a thought. I find much to 
interest me in his criticisms on great authors, and in his 



TO DR. CHANNING-. 



331 



distinctions and discriminations in psychology ; but the 
peculiarities of his mind, and still more the infelicities 
of his character and life, unfitted him for the study of 
religion. I have been sorry to see great disingenuous- 
ness in his attacks on Unitarianism. Will you accept 
this as an answer to your last ? I feel that I ought to 
write, and I wish to express my sympathy with you, but 
am incapable of writing more. 

Your sincere friend, 

W. E. Chanxixg. 



To Dr. Changing. 

Hampstead, March. 23, 1839. 

Months ago did I say to myself, " My Boston friend 
will be making inquiries about these Puseyites before 
long, and I must take care to be provided for him." At 
the same time I do not think them of much consequence 
or likely to be so; and although the sect seems to have its 
fanatics, it is no new illumination, but mere Laudism — 
an extreme of High-churchism, which cannot prosper 
without much more countenance from the magistrate 
than it appears that it has any chance of receiving. Dr. 
Pusey was some time ago the ringleader in a plot for 
depriving Dr. Hampden of his Divinity professorship, 
on account, or on pretext, of an explanation given by 
him of the doctrine of the Trinity, which Pusey and 
his followers called heretical. But their zeal or malice 
having impelled them to go beyond the authority given 
by the statutes of the university, they were called to order 
by the government ; and Dr. Hampden, after making a 
sort of recantation, obtained preferment, although he had 
openly pleaded for the admission of Dissenters to the 
universities, his worst heresy. As for the origin of the 
sect, some say Cambridge having had her Simeon, Oxford 



332 



TO DR. CHANNING-. 



must have her Pusey. But the root lies a little deeper 
than this. Our Church, as you know, is a Janus, having 
one face towards Geneva, the other towards the city upon 
the Seven Hills. Of the sour Geneva face, as exhibited 
by the modern Evangelicals, our gentlemanly clergy 
began to grow very sick, and to fancy they should prefer 
the other, which at least becomes a mitre far better. 

For the purpose of inclining the minds of the people 
in the same direction, this party have for several years 
past been publishing panegyrics in reviews and sermons, 
and panegyrical biographies of our elder divines, with 
cheap editions of their works; endeavouring quietly and 
gradually to bring into fashion again that edging on to- 
ward the Eoman creed, that exceeding almost scriptural 
tenderness for the divines of the fourth, fifth and sixth 
centuries, which distinguishes the Church of England 
dignitaries from Elizabeth inclusively to our Revolution 
in 1688 from other Protestants; concerning which edging 
Coleridge in his latter mind says, " I scarcely know 
whether to be pleased or grieved with it." Yet in an 
earlier passage of his " Literary Eemains " we find him 
confessing that there was a strange lingering of childish 
credulity in the divines of the episcopal church down to 
the time of James II., when the Popish controversy 
" made a great clearance." But this by the bye. Besides 
the increased reverence for priesthood by episcopal ordi- 
nation derived from apostolical succession, and the 
notion of authority in the Church to make orders for 
externals, and decide questions of faith which the study 
of these writers was fitted to instil, an important advan- 
tage may have been calculated upon in a great contro- 
versy. It begins to be clear to all parties, that the 
doctrine of the Trinity cannot be defended by Scrip- 
ture, so many of the texts formerly relied upon having 
yielded under the assaults of modern criticism; but 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



333 



make Scripture of the Fathers of the first four centuries, 
and you have all the authority for it that you can 
possibly desire. The atonement also might he much 
strengthened by making an apostle of Augustine ; but 
this perhaps is rather the affair of another party. Xow, 
although this scheme had something plausible, I doubt 
its solidity. Of all attempts, the least promising is that 
of restoring things gone by. Z indeed, believe folly to 
be immortal, but individual follies certainly live out 
their day and die. Much as it would redound to the 
glory and profit of the clergy "to lift again the crozier/' it 
cannot be done without the concurrence of the State, with- 
out the restoration to the Church of coercive powers long 
vsince lost, without an authoritative quashing of contro- 
versy, without a commanded exterior reverence to things 
fallen into general contempt ; such, for example, as the 
keeping of Lent, so scouted in the House of Commons 
the other day. Therefore, depend upon it, one Pusey 
will not make a Laudian church. I should not wonder 
to see a part of the real fanatics of this sect turn Papists 
(" go the whole hog/' as you say) : the others will cool 
down into proud, stiff, High-church people — nothing 
more. The best is, that they thwart the Evangelicals, 
and thus divide the house against itself, for which it 
will not stand the faster. 

With respect to the bishops who subscribed to the 
sermons of my venerable friend, a little allowance must 
be made for them. Men who are governors in a Church 
with such creeds and such articles, cannot very con- 
sistently appear as patrons of Unitarian sermons ; the 
Bishop of Durham * accordingly, had stipulated to have 
his name suppressed, and might justly be a little vexed 
at the breach of this condition ; — the more, as he was 
baptized and bred among the Unitarians, and has always 

* Dr. Maltby. 



334 



TO DE. CHAINING. 



been of a very suspected orthodoxy. The other bishop 
I take to be a timid Liberal. On the whole, I think 
what yon would call rational religion is silently working 
its way in society. It is remarkable that the Unitarian 
sect, confessedly one of the very smallest in the country, 
has more members of Parliament in proportion belonging 
to it than any other denomination whatever, — a strong 
presumption, as it appears to me, that many more favour 
and secretly entertain these opinions than think proper 
as yet openly to avow them. The orthodox Dissenters, 
who have not a single member, are enraged at this cir- 
cumstance, and I have no doubt it sets an edge on the 
polemical zeal of the clergy. An Unitarian has also been 
made a baronet, one of the best of men. The present 
ministry are constantly upbraided by their opponents as 
enemies to the Church, and not entirely without reason; 
yet they are supported by majorities, though small ones. 

Pray observe that it was chiefly as a school of taste 
that I commended the society in which rank and talent 
meet. I am sensible that some who frequent it too much 
lose that earnestness on which you justly set a much 
higher moral value. But I see also those who, with 
manners rendered adroit by the intercourse and example 
of the great, know how, in more select and private circles, 
where they meet equals, to maintain excellent opinions 
on the highest subjects — to maintain them with the more 
effect for never losing command of themselves or a just 
deference to the claims of others. These indeed are the 
ilite; as to either commonplace or merely worldly people, 
they certainly are rendered less displeasing by polished 
manners, and neither more insipid nor more hollow. 

One word more as to aristocracy. In this country 
it cannot be said to have accomplished its vocation of 
keeping the peace so long as we have such frightful 
inequality of property — that is, so long as our population 



TO DR. CHANNING-. 



335 



continues (and what should prevent its continuing ?) so 
excessive in proportion to the means of support. Eight 
shillings a week is the present pay in many parts of the 
country of an agricultural labourer, and hope of ever 
mending his condition in the common course of things 
he has none. Dare you trust such a man with a vote ? 
Political power in such hands would soon conduct us 
to universal confusion. There must be with us strong 
buttresses to counterbalance the thrust which would 
bring all to ruin. 0 Malthus, Malthus ! you saw the 
source of mischief — who sees the remedy ? 

I thank you much for your address to the Franklin 
Society. It has many very valuable remarks and sug- 
gestions, but I thought there was some vagueness, for 
want of more divisions of the subject. Ought not moral 
and intellectual culture to have been considered sepa- 
rately ? In one place you observe that books are not 
necessary to culture ; in another you eloquently expatiate 
on their value. Now this I regard as no real inconsis- 
tency, but I wanted some distinctions to take away the 
appearance of it. You in your country of easy circum- 
stances may look to universal school education ; here I 
neither expect, nor indeed desire, at present to see it 
attempted. What a mockery to offer learning to the 
English labourer at eight shillings a week, or to the Irish 
peasant with his insufficient quantity of the worst kind 
of potato ! Will the spirit of the age, from which you 
expect such great things, bring any mitigation to the 
sufferings of our mass ? I fear not much ; but it is still 
a duty to do all that is possible ; and in as much as a 
government practises rigid economy, promotes legal re- 
forms, and renders justice accessible to the poor by its 
cheapness, and by a spirit of real impartiality in the 
ministers of it — in as much as it trims the balance skil- 
fully between the conflicting claims of different classes 



336 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



and interests, it will discharge its highest duties. You 
will not dispute, I conceive, that these views of political 
measures involve moral, and if moral, religious consider- 
ations of the utmost importance. Therefore you may 
find even our political events matters fit for your con- 
cern — the more, as it cannot be disputed that, in the 
main, the Whig is the party of reformation of all kinds, 
the Tory that of corruption and abuse. 

A project, of which I am much more in dread than 
the attempts of the Laudians, is one of which our busy 
Bishop of London* is the head. He has founded a 
society for the purpose of bringing education under 
ecclesiastical control. This body are visiting all the 
London schools ; they inquire of the masters (I know 
not whether they yet take cognizance of schoolmis- 
tresses) whether they will adopt the methods of the 
society ; especially whether they will engage to teach 
Church of England Catechism, and whether they will 
submit to be examined by the society as to their com- 
petence in learning. If they consent, they are patron- 
ized; if not, an opposition school is founded close by, 
and all means are adopted to ruin their business. The 
only comfort is, that this association, being maintained 
solely by private subscriptions, will perhaps die away 
by degrees for want of funds, and also that it savours 
too much of an inquisition to suit the feelings of the 
English public. The German divines are a thorn in 
the flesh of our University clergy. They dare not pre- 
tend to despise their learning ; and how to prevent their 
heresies from spreading amongst the students of theo- 
logy ? Depend upon it, the hypocrisy is to the ortho- 
doxy in our Church as 99 to 1 at the least. But can we 
rejoice in this ? I cannot, unless it is to lead to some 
greater good than I can conceive. A learned but here- 

* Bishop Blomfield. 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



337 



tical Cambridge divine tells me, " this generation of us 
think, the next will speak!' 

You cannot, I am sure, complain of this letter for 
want of length. I hope and think it has answered all 
your questions. I have made time to write it, for indeed 
I am very busily engaged in collecting materials for my 
" Addison." The writing of the work I have not begun, 
excepting in detached notes, therefore I cannot yet judge 
what kind of figure it will make. I am in pretty good 
spirits about it, however — chiefly, perhaps, because, my 
bodily health being stronger, my mind is more alert 
and more inclined to look on the bright side, at least 
of things depending on myself. I must now bid you 
farewell. 

Ever yours very sincerely, 

Lucy Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, April 28, 1839. 

My clear Miss Aikin, — I learn that you are quite 
unwell, and I would that it were in my power to say 
a cheering word to you. I recollect the pleasure you 
have often given me by your long letters, and should 
be glad to repay my obligations. The spring, I trust, is 
doing you good. This season was never more beautiful 
here than at the present moment. "Vegetation is more 
forward than usual by two or three weeks; and we have 
had a succession of soft, balmy days, which help us to 
comprehend Milton's " vernal airs," and " gentle gales 
fanning their odorous wings." It is not true that as we 
advance in life the sense of pleasure fails us. I certainly 
enjoy fine weather as I did not in my youth. I did not 
need it then ; but this difference does not explain my 

Q 



338 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



present sensations. There is a spiritual delight in these 
" vernal airs " and " gentle gales," of which I was wholly- 
incapable in the tumults of youth. Did you ever read the 
Life of Henry More, the Platonist ? I have always been 
interested in him, and can comprehend how he enjoyed 
a calm stream of bland air as an emblem and almost a 
means of the access of the Divine Spirit. I have taken 
much pleasure in the old Platonists of your country, 
Cudworth, John Smith, More, and, I may add, Norris, 
though inferior to the former— not that I have studied 
them — but occasional draughts of their mysterious wis- 
dom have been refreshing to me. Mysticism is so vague 
a word, that one hardly knows what it means ; but it is a 
glorious extravagance, and perhaps a necessary reaction 
against the general earthliness of men's minds. I par- 
don the man who loses himself in the clouds, if he will 
help me upwards. 

I have been good for nothing for a week, and have 
been looking for amusement to a book which deserves 
serious study, Hallam's Literature of the Middle Ages. 
I am glad to find in it more unction than in his former 
writings — more to please as w^ell as instruct. I am 
much pleased with his view of Luther, the hardest cha- 
racter, perhaps, to be understood in modern time, not 
from any inherent difficulty, but from the prejudices 
and passions awakened by his name. The Eeformation 
has been identified with him too much. The Eeforma- 
tion was due not so much to Luther as to the times. 
He found the pear ripe. It is wonderful how little 
difficulty he found in carrying the people with him, and 
they proved his body-guard. He was too strong in 
the popular heart to be touched with safety. He found 
immense aid in what was an accident, and that was 
the gradual opening of his eyes to abuses. He kept 
but a few steps in advance of the people, and attacked 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



339 



every error with the zeal of new discovery. In this 
respect the difference between Luther and the Author 
of our faith is remarkable. The latter from the first 
moment told his whole truth, and was immeasurably 
separated from the universal mind around him. I was 
glad to learn from Hallam that Luther's doctrine of 
justification by faith preceded his work as a Eeformer. 
I had imagined that he was unconsciously goaded to 
frame it as a good weapon for assault on the good works 
of the Catholics. It is interesting to observe how this 
gross error (for such it was as Luther held it) was used 
to beat down other errors, showing us that " things evil' 7 
have their commission. The more I know of Luther, the 
less I credit the Catholic stories against him. He was 
a man of impulse, not calculating ; coarse, unrefined, 
impetuous, infinitely self-confident, kept in a fever not 
only by his own fiery temperature, but by the excite- 
ments of fierce conflicts. Such a man must have laid 
himself open to misrepresentation perpetually, and we 
can understand how prejudiced opponents justified them- 
selves in charging on him all manner of crimes ; but 
his faults were those of a generous spirit, and it is 
impossible to overlook in his correspondence the signs 
and natural bursts of a sincere, disinterested, heroic de- 
votee to what he thought God's truth. I could not agree 
with Mr. Hallam in the analogies he traces between 
Luther's age and ours ; the difference is immense. 

I beg you not to feel the least obligation to answer 
this letter. I do not write to put you to the slightest 
labour, but in the hope that a line from a distant friend 
may cheer you. When you can write with pleasure to 
yourself, I shall welcome a letter. I earnestly hope that 
entire repose will set you up for the worthy tasks you 
have set yourself. Very truly your friend, 

Wm. E. Changing. 

q 2 



340 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, May 10, 1839. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I received yesterday your let- 
ter of March 23, and it was most welcome. My last, if 
it has reached you, will show that I had no expectation of 
hearing from you. I had been told that you were too much 
indisposed and exhausted for any exertion. It seems that 
rumour grows by traversing seas as well as land. My 
accounts of your health made me unwilling to send you 
two tracts which I have lately published, one on Slavery, 
one on War. I now forward them. They were called 
forth by local circumstances; but I should have no 
heart to write on the local, if it gave me no chance of 
bringing out what I esteem universal and eternal, truth. 
I know you have no taste for discussions of slavery, 
but I hope you will read my letter, because it goes into 
no shocking details, because it is an exposition of prin- 
ciples to a certain extent, and because I should like to 
know whether the style is not more unexceptionable, 
freer, more natural and idiomatic, than what you have 
met in my other writings. Not that I have made the 
style an object; but I am ready to believe that an 
improved taste and purer conceptions have insensibly 
moulded the expression of my thoughts. Very possibly 
I err; and my pretensions on this subject are so humble, 
that you will not pain me by speaking the truth. " So 
all vain people say/' perhaps you may be ready to reply. 
But among all my infirmities, I do not plead guilty to 
vanity; and the manner in which I have received severe 
criticism assures me that this is not my tender side. I 
hope that I have now done "the work given me to do" 
on the subject of Slavery. All my feelings, and, I may 
add, my interest, dictated to me silence. But I could 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



341 



not, I dared not, be still. This subject had got into the 
hands of our professed Abolitionists, a noble set of men 
on the whole, but so unwise and intemperate as to pre- 
judice the cause in the minds of our most intelligent 
and influential people; and nobody out of their ranks 
would speak. The topic was most unpopular. In pre- 
paring my work on Slavery, I named it but to two or 
three friends; for had my project been known, I should 
have had to encounter the dissuasives, disapprobation and 
frowns of all around me. This motive for writing has 
very much ceased, and I now hope for strength to apply 
myself without distraction to the great objects to which 
my life has been devoted. Not that my occasional tracts 
have demanded much time. I have an impatience when 
engaged in such labours which carries me through them 
in a short time. My sensibility to slavery has been and 
is great, not only on the general grounds of justice and 
humanity, but from its particular relation to my country. 
I talk about my country with great freedom in my 
writings, and blame it more than all others, but I do 
so from the depth of my love to it. When I look at its 
unrivalled freedom and energy, and at the diffusion of 
means of culture among the people, I feel as if it had a 
higher work to do, a higher destiny to fulfil, than any 
nation on earth ; and my heart beats indignantly or 
sorrowfully when I see this bright prospect darkened 
by slavery, that cloud from hell, which, if not scattered, 
ought to overwhelm and destroy. I do not know that 
I ever spoke to you so strongly of my country before. I 
am little anxious to recommend it to favour abroad. I 
feel that it cannot be understood. Travellers come here, 
and mix with our rich merchants, who alone are able to 
show hospitality on a large scale, and think they know 
America. The American people is hardly seen ; but no 
matter. I never felt the slightest uneasiness at the 



342 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



reports such people carry home. I know what the 
country is, and knowing this, solicit flatteries for it no 
more than for my family. It will speak for itself in 
time, and with this faith I heed not what is said now. 
Nothing said about it, good or bad, can have any influ- 
ence on it, so impetuous are the impulses which are 
speeding it on, whether to weal or woe. I have indeed 
solicitudes about it ; but slavery is the only imminent 
danger. I am kept more and more in peace by my 
deeper, more reverential conviction of the mysterious- 
ness of Providence. Once I presumed to be a prophet. 
Now I hope and submit. I still cling to the anticipa- 
tion of the progress of the world by gradual, gentle, 
peaceful processes ; but the lessons of history and my 
own observation make me more doubtful whether a 
worn-out, corrupt state of things is to be transformed by 
a quiet transition into a fresh and healthy one. Your 
own account of your National Church makes me fear 
that, like Catholicism, this mixture of tradition and 
tyranny will need a storm to sweep it away. There 
are elements of good in all societies, but often so over- 
powered by evil growth of centuries, that convulsions 
are necessary to set them free. I do hope that destruc- 
tion is not required to renovation ; but if they to whom 
society has a right to look for beneficent renovation, 
concentrate all their powers to resist, the same awful 
Providence which has in past times shaken the social 
state, will again heave it from its foundations. Had I 
nothing to rest on but political foresight, I should have 
gloomy seasons. My religious faith in human nature, 
in God's purposes towards His spiritual family, never 
fails me. 

I thank you for your interesting account of the move- 
ments in your Church. Perhaps we differ in this, that 
I see in these more of fanaticism, you more of intrigue 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



343 



and ambition, and perhaps we are both not far from 
the truth. I have been learning somewhat slowly how 
possible it is for intrigue and fanaticism to meet in the 
same men. Once I could not comprehend this union 
of vehement impulse and selfish calculation. But is it 
wonderful that fanaticism which disorders the reason 
should prey on the conscience, that our moral as well 
as intellectual perceptions should be clouded by it ? A 
morbid bigot naturally winks at and approves the worst 
means which favour his end. I find as I grow older that I 
am less indulgent to diseased actions of the mind, how- 
ever generous their tendency. I distrust more, not only 
scowling fanaticism, but that kindlier and more cheerful 
form of insanity, enthusiasm. I reverence more the calm 
reason, using this word in its broad sense as compre- 
hending all universal truths, consequently the great 
moral principles. Its essence being impartiality, it is 
the antithesis of selfish, worldly calculation, and it- 
issues in more enduring as well as nobler sensibility 
than belongs to enthusiasm. Since I wrote you, we 
have been troubled with "rumours of war " between the 
two countries. Can we fight ? Is the wild beast still 
so strong in us ? For myself, there seems something 
unnatural in war between England and America. Are 
we not one family ? Do I not feel the blood of my old 
mother in my veins ? I cannot look on you as a foreign 
country, though I fear you do not return the kindness. 
I want the good people in both countries to say, " We 
will not fight and I am satisfied that we, the good, 
are strong enough to keep the peace. I beg you to feel 
no obligation to write to me unless you can do it with 
perfect ease. Consult your health. I rejoice to learn 
that you feel yourself able to work again. To both of 
us, no play is so refreshing as the healthy action of our 
faculties in such work as our consciences and hearts 



344 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



approve. May you have strength for your own happi- 
ness and for the good of others ! 

Tour sincere friend, 

W. E. Changing. 

P.S. Dr. Carpenter sent me an admirable tract by 
Eev. Mr. Powell, of Oxford, on " Tradition." Writings 
like this and Archbishop Whately's make me hope there 
is a redeeming spirit in the Church. I am just looking 
over a book which has a degree of point and pungency 
in thought and expression, called " Guesses at Truth." 
There is a tone of spiritual conservatism in it which I 
can bear very well. Do you know whence it comes ? I 
have this moment heard that the Quarterly Eeview has 
come out in favour of the Oxford party, and that Lord 
Brougham has assailed or disparaged me in the Edin- 
burgh. If this be true, his Lordship might have found 
some worthier prey. I dare say he finds enough to 
blame, as do I with my inferior sagacity. Happily, I 
have lived too long to be in fear of reviewers. My 
writings have made their way, as far as they have gone, 
with very little help from this tribe, and, still more, 
without any efforts of friends or any patronage what- 
ever. This is very cheering to me, as showing sympathy 
with what I think important truth, but not as a sign of 
any endeavours or wide-spread fame. I see far higher 
reputations fading away, and who am I that I should 
live ? Providence is to raise up brighter lights to ob- 
scure not only my humble ray, but the long-acknow- 
ledged teachers of the world. What better can we ask ? 

I am almost ashamed to send this unconscionably long 
letter. How it has grown under my hands I know not. 
I have written it almost too fast for thought, and there- 
fore it has overrun reasonable bounds. 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



345 



To Dr. Ohanning. 

Hampstead, June 19, 1839. 

My dear Friend, — Your very kind letter has just 
reached me, and I cannot be easy without sitting down 
immediately to thank you for it most cordially, and to 
give you a few particulars of myself, which I know you 
will read with some interest. I have indeed been long 
a very poor feeble creature, and during our long winter 
and chilly spring (the very opposite of yours, for it has 
been unusually backward) I was almost a complete pri- 
soner, and a solitary one; for the unhealthy season simi- 
larly affected many of my best friends, and kept them 
from visiting me. My spirits were severely tried in 
consequence. At length April arrived, and I was look- 
ing for better times, when I caught, I believe, the influ- 
enza, which speedily increased from a feverish cold to 
an inflammation of the throat and lungs, which brought 
my life into imminent peril. For my own part, I had 
not the slightest expectation, nor, I may add, wish of 
recovery. The love of life, as I may have mentioned to 
you, has always been feeble in me. Under the influence 
of sickness and dejection it was at this time quite extin- 
guished, and I was not only calm, but happy, in the 
prospect of a speedy solution of that mystery of exist- 
ence which had often weighed heavily indeed upon my 
spirit. I called to mind all things and persons interest- 
ing to me, whether near or distant, and did not omit to 
direct a long message of friendship to be conveyed to 
you. But the Great Disposer had not decreed my imme- 
diate release. I am still here speculating and reason- 
ing ; and the affectionate expressions of my friends, 
joined to the natural influence of returning strength, 
now dispose me to receive less ungraciously the boon 

Q 3 



346 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



of lengthened life — useless creature as I feel myself to 
be, or useful only as affording an object to the kind 
affections of relations and a few friends. I live in my 
sad domestic solitude and inutility, and I have the grief 
to see the young and amiable wife of one of my nephews 
sinking under a mortal disease, to leave behind her a 
heart-broken husband and motherless babe ! Mystery, 
all mystery ! 

Much have I to say to you. besides returning you my 
thanks for your two pieces on " War" and on " Slavery/' 
The last I hold to be the very best work that you have 
yet given us. I agree with you throughout, or very 
nearly so, and I much admire the manner in wdiich 
you have treated the exceedingly delicate topic of the 
abolitionists. You have dealt out exemplary justice 
between them and their persecutors. Your commemo- 
ration of • Darwin's slave gave me a thrill of delight. 
From the days of my childhood, when I was among 
the abstainers from sugar, till now, that kneeling figure 
has been the type of his race to my imagination. Let 
me add, that in this piece your style is more than ever 
to my taste. It is your true epistolary style, which I 
may well love best of all. 

The lecture on War gives more hold to remark, and, 
perhaps, controversy. Yet there is very much in which 
I cordially concur. The preliminary observations, and 
more especially the remarks on the causes of the present 
long peace, and the summary of those which may again 
stir up war, the warning of the little reliance to be 
placed on commerce and prosperity as pacific, on ac- 
count of the selfish and evil passions engendered by 
both, appeared to me not only just, but profound, and 
often original, and worthy to be widely diffused and 
deeply pondered. Your discussion, too, of the right in 
governments to declare war has much powerful argu- 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



347 



ment and irresistible appeals to the heart and to the 
conscience. But your exhortations to Christians to sub- 
mit to maityrdora rather than obey their governments 
in cases of unjust war, will, I conceive, be a good deal 
disapproved, both in your pure democracy, where " vox 
populi ;; stands pretty generally, I suppose, for " vox Dei," 
and in our mixed constitution, which freely admits of 
public meetings, petitions to the crown or the legislature, 
and instructions to representatives. It may be thought, 
perhaps justly, to tend to anarchy, and thus to war itself 
— civil war. You take new, and I think strong ground, 
in holding out a just acknowledgment of the rights of 
man as the firmest bulwark against war, that thousand- 
headed monster of wrong; this idea of the claims of 
man as -such, you derive from the Xew Testament, 
which certainly does inculcate that equality among man- 
kind on which rights are based. Yet, on other points, 
are there not considerable difficulties attending the reli- 
gious view of the subject ? Our old Puritans found it 
hard to reconcile the spirit of Christianity with the 
armed assertion of civil liberty, and discovered no other 
means of accomplishing it than by giving more authority 
to the maxims and examples of the Old Testament than 
the precepts of the ZSTew. In fact, although wars of 
revenge and ambition are crushed in the germ by the 
Gospel denunciations against the passions themselves, 
it does so happen that even these are not so directly 
prohibited as self-defence — as any thought of resistance 
to tyranny, violence and wrong, exercised against our- 
selves. I do not see how any Christian can stop short- 
of Quakerism on this point without allowing himself to 
regard these non-resisting principles as local or tempo- 
rary in their intention. You, I suppose, take this view, 
as you permit self-defence. But in many cases this is 
permitting all. Practically, the line dividing offence 



348 TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



from defence is very often evanescent. Once allow war 
not to be utterly unlawful, and we may listen to con- 
siderations of state expediency, utility. " Necessity, 
the tyrant's plea/' comes in; and I own I see hot on 
what other ground — certainly not that of justice — you 
yourself hold it right that your free states should be 
bound to supply troops to put down slave insurrections 
in the South. Thus each case of hostilities comes to be 
discussed on its own merits or demerits, and the appli- 
cability of the religious scruple comes to be matter of 
opinion. In the end, the decision is left to the moral 
feelings or moral principles of men — antagonists how 
unequal to then 1 passions, prejudices and interests ! No 
cause, however, can be more worthy of the zealous efforts 
of good men than that of peace. Your lecture is emi- 
nently adapted to awaken conscience and reflection to 
the enormous guilt of war, and it will be reckoned to 
you amongst your best services to the interests of human 
nature. Meantime, let us be thankful that our two 
governments have shown too much wisdom, whether 
of the best kind or not, to -make enemies of two kindred 
nations. The Borderers may go on jangling, but there 
is evidently nothing else to fear. 

You, who do not love our utilitarian philosophy, will 
rejoice, I suppose, to learn that no less men than Messrs. 
TYhewell and Sedgwick are doing their utmost to get 
the works of Paley put out of the course of reading for 
Cambridge undergraduates ; but I fear this step is not 
taken in favour of the beautiful mysteries of your Pla- 
tonists, but of others more gainful to our State-church. 
Our clergy are desperately active at present, and pro- 
portionally mischievous. They will not allow us to have 
a normal school on terms of anything like fairness to 
Dissenters, and they everywhere talk very big of " the 
authority committed unto them" as the successors of 



TO DR. CHANNETG. 



349 



the apostles. I have even heard of attempts amongst 
them to remind people of a monstrous old law, made 
against Popish recusants and still unrepealed, by which 
persons are liable to heavy penalties for not regularly 
attending their parish church. I apprehend, however, 
that this applies now only to Church people, the Tole- 
ration Act sheltering Dissenters. They have "all the 
plea" at present ; the press seems as much their own as if 
they had an Inquisition at their command. But let them 
beware of what is gathering in silence. Men think very 
freely now and whisper ; presently they will speak out 
and act, I trust. If you take up a list of new publica- 
tions, it seems as if nothing scarcely was written or read 
amongst us except theology, and of the narrowest kind ; 
but so it is, that a person might live in the midst of the 
best and most literary society for a year together, and 
never hear the slightest mention of any one new book 
on these subjects. I know not exactly who are the 
readers, but I suspect scarcely any laymen of the smallest 
note. The clergy often write at the bishop or the patron, 
not the public, and there are a number of women who 
write theology for little children, which some mammas 
encourage. The Tory party are in strict alliance with 
the Church ; but I suspect they look more to the in- 
crease of their political power through this union than 
to any objects of a religious nature. You may perhaps 
have read in our debates, on what pretexts these high 
allies have defeated, for the present at least, the minis- 
terial project in favour of a normal school, in which the 
Church would not have been permitted to impose her 
own dogmas on the children of Dissenters ; and I think 
you will scarcely give such a man as Lord Stanley 
credit for honest bigotry on the occasion. I suppose 
that good is to come out of these conflicts between free- 
dom and mental thraldom in the end, but the immediate 



350 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



effect is miserably depressing and irritating. One can 
scarcely witness with composure even the temporary 
success of arrogant priestly claims, supported by fashion, 
self-interest, or narrow-mindedness. You speak of Lu- 
ther: have you read a selection from his " Table-Talk," 
translated into English, which appeared about ten years 
since ? It is very entertaining, and helps one to under- 
stand him. I respect him much. 

Mr. Eogers pointed out a passage in your " Texas," 
beginning, " England is a privileged country," as one of 
the finest in our language. 

Have I not given you full measure this time? and 
yet I feel as if I had more to say. 

Ever most sincerely yours, 

L. Aikin. 



To Miss Aikin. 

September 11, 1839. 

/ My dear Miss Aikin, — Your letter of July w as truly 
a relief and a gratification. I had heard of your indis- 
position from others as well as yourself, and could not 
but be solicitous about you. And now you are better, 
and I trust can begin to work again. You must not 
wait till you can accomplish much. If you can apply 
yourself to your task but an hour or even half an hour 
a day, and can write but a few lines or gather a few 
authorities, no matter ; there is a pleasure in the con- 
sciousness of progress, however slow. To see something 
growing under our hands is a solace even in great weak- 
ness. During this summer I have been able to give little 
more than an hour a day to my work, but I have been 
all the happier for my pains. I am sorry that the re- 
newed gift of life does not seem a greater good to you. 



to miss aikin. 



351 



There we differ. I love life, perhaps too much — perhaps 
I cling to it too strongly for a Christian and philosopher. 
I welcome every new day with new gratitude. I almost 
wonder at myself when I think of the pleasure which 
the dawn gives me, after having witnessed it so many 
years. This blessed light of heaven, how dear it is to 
me ! and this earth which I have trodden so long, with 
what affection I look at it ! I have but a moment ago 
cast my eyes over the lawn in front of my house, and 
the sight of it gemmed with dew, and heightening by 
its brilliancy the shadow of the trees which fall on it, 
awakened emotions perhaps more vivid than I experi- 
enced in youth. I do not, like the ancients, call the 
earth, mother ; she is so fresh, youthful, living and rejoic- 
ing. I do, indeed, anticipate a more glorious world than 
this, but still my first familiar home is very precious 
to me ; nor can I think of leaving its sun and sky and 
fields and ocean without regret ; and not only my interest 
in outward nature, but my interest in human nature, in 
its destinies, in the progress of science, in the struggles 
of freedom and religion, in works of genius, and especially 
in great subjects of inquiry, has increased up to this 
moment, and I am now in my sixtieth year. Indeed, 
life has been an improving gift from my youth ; and one 
reason I believe to be, that my youth was not a happy 
one. I look back to no bright dawn of life which gra- 
dually " faded into common day." The light which I 
now live in rose at a later period. A rigid domestic dis- 
cipline, sanctioned by the times — gloomy views of reli- 
gion — the selfish passions — collisions with companions 
perhaps worse than myself — these and other things dark- 
ened my boyhood. Then came altered circumstances — 
dependence, unwise and excessive labour for indepen- 
dence, and the symptoms of the weakness and disease 
which have followed me through life. Amidst this dark- 



352 



TO MISS AIKItf. 



ness, it pleased God that the light should rise. The work 
of spiritual regeneration, the discovery of the supreme 
good, of the great and glorious end of life, aspirations 
after truth and virtue which are pledges and beginnings 
of immortality, the consciousness of something divine 
within me — these began, faintly indeed, and through 
many struggles and sufferings have gone on. 

Since beginning this letter I have visited a beach, the 
favourite haunt of my boyhood. There I saw the same 
unchanged beauty and grandeur which moved my youth- 
ful soul, but I could look back only to be conscious of 
beholding them now with a deeper, purer joy. So much 
for what would be called an unhappy youth. Perhaps I 
owe to it much of my present happiness. I know not 
that in indulgence, prosperity and buoyant health, I 
should have heeded the inward revelations or engaged in 
the inward conflicts to which I owe so much. Will you 
pardon this egotism ? I am almost unwilling to send 
it, but we may learn something from one another's ex- 
perience, and I have thought that this internal history 
might be interesting and perhaps useful to you. / 

Your letter gives me another personal topic. You say 
Lord Brougham was my reviewer. I am sorry for it ; 
not that I apprehend anything from the attack, but as a 
fellow-labourer in the cause of freedom I should have 
been left to do what little good I can undisturbed. The 
motive ascribed by Mr. Eogers can hardly be the true 
one. Lord B. and myself have too little in common for 
envy. Our paths are too distinct to let us jostle one 
another. Then he must be conscious that his gifts, by 
their kind, to say nothing of their extent, have given him 
a conspicuousness before which my reputation makes 
little show. Is he not given to freaks ? We need not, 
then, study his motives. I still feel kindly towards him, 
for I have connected him with that joyful moment when 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



353 



I heard of the accession of the Whigs to power. I have 
supposed him a chief worker in that triumph, and it is 
no mean praise to have stood by Liberal principles in 
the day of their depression, and to have carried them vic- 
toriously through the conflict. True, when he got power, 
he did not know how to use or keep it ; but how common 
is this with men called great ! How few are like our 
Washington, who, after fighting the battle of liberty, 
have won fresher laurels in peace ! One laurel suffices 
most men, and a man who renders one good service must 
not be forgotten. I suppose Lord B.'s chief merit to be 
in debate, and that his vehemence and sarcasm has not 
been surpassed since Lord Chatham. As a writer, I have 
always thought him somewhat clumsy ; more remarkable 
for rude force than refinement, and very deficient in the 
ear. Did he ever write a musical sentence ? I began 
•his first book on Natural Theology, but finding that I 
should gain little, I laid it aside. I hear good accounts 
of his second, and I certainly respect him for this use of 
his powers. Has he taken sides with the clergy on the 
subject of education ? I trust the Dissenters will suffer 
or sacrifice anything rather than suffer the established 
priesthood to get any control of the faith of their chil- 
dren, How stands this matter ? But enough. 

Your sincere friend, 

Tfr. E. Chaxxixg. 



To De. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, March 2, 1S40. 

You think, my good friend, supposing you have given 
yourself the trouble of thinking on the subject, that it 
is an unconscionable length of time since I have written 



354 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



to you— in which you are much mistaken. I wrote you 
a long letter very lately, and it was safely conveyed to 
the post ; but by the egregious blundering of the Hamp- 
stead post-mistress (I have a great opinion of my sex 
and certainly think a woman fit to govern a kingdom, 
but defend me from she-governors of post-offices !) — by 
her egregious blundering in our new postage law my un- 
fortunate epistle got to the dead-letter office, whence it 
was returned to me, opened, creased, dirty, and unfit to 
send you. Ah! you will never know what a loss you 
had there. Such a letter ! And poor I must be at the 
trouble to write another. Well, I submit with a good 
grace to any temporary inconvenience by this new law, 
which reduces our heavy postage to a single penny from 
one extremity of our island to the other. The moral 
tendency of the measure seems to me of greater value 
than figures can express. In the humbler classes it 
restores parents and children, brothers and sisters, to one 
another, who had grown strangers by long discontinuance 
of all intercourse; it will give a stronger impetus to 
national education than all the arguments yet advanced, 
and will redeem many an hour from idleness or worse, 
for the usually innocent, often amiable and useful, em- 
ployment of letter- writing. In Scotland, where families 
are often so widely scattered by the impulse of neces- 
sity or ambition, which carries their active youth to the 
farthest ends of the earth, family attachments are never- 
theless kept up with remarkable zeal and constancy ; 
with us, I am sorry to confess that this is not the case, 
at least in the lower classes. A boy or girl coming to 
London from a remote county to seek service, seems often 
to forget entirely the native village and the parent's roof, 
and with them all the moral restraints imposed by such 
ties. How stands this case, I should like to hear, with 



TO DK. CHAINING. 



355 



your New-Englanders who rush into the wilds of the 
far West ? With them communication must often be 
difficult and tedious. 

You expressed to me in your last an anxiety lest our 
clergy should be permitted to exert the control over 
national education which they have ventured to claim 
by right of their office. Never fear ; it will not be sub- 
mitted to. Notwithstanding the bluster of the Church 
party, nothing would so much surprise me as to see the 
Establishment winning, or winning back, a single inch 
of ground. That spirit of power, the genius of the nine- 
teenth century, says No. I daily more and more perceive 
the sagacity of those who applied to the epoch of the 
passing of the Eeform Bill Talleyrand's expression, " Le 
commencement de la fin/' W e have been striding on 
towards essential democracy and religious equality ever 
since ; and nothing seems to me capable of arresting this 
progress, unless some such absurd and furious movements 
of a Chartist mob as might cause in the better classes 
the reaction of alarm. In spite of my aristocratic letter 
— written when I, too, was suffering something of a 
reaction from deep disgust at the interference of your 
border states in behalf of our Canada rebels, and their 
insolent and ignorant defiance of the laws of nations — - 
in spite of feelings which the better behaviour of your 
executive has since mitigated — I view our domestic state 
with hope, and much, though ,not unmingled, satisfaction, 
The pacification of Ireland is a moral triumph which 
warms my heart with admiration, reverence and grati- 
tude towards the true statesmen who have compassed 
it ; and after this achievement I know not what task of 
reformation can be found too difficult. 

No ; we will not quarrel for a petty boundary question 
—it is not to be thought of. " What is that between 
me and thee ?" May our rulers on both sides treat it 



356 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



as friend with friend, brother with brother. Believe me, 
the tie is felt on our side as strongly as it well can be 
on yours. By all the Liberal party, at least, it is strongly 
felt ; and I cannot but regard it as the most favourable 
of all circumstances that this question should fall to be 
decided under a Whig ministry on our side. 

You have, I hope, found time to read Professor Smyth's 
"Lectures on Modern History;" and if you have, I feel 
sure of your finding in them much to approve and admire. 
The writer, a young and lively man of seventy-six, is an 
old and dear friend of mine ; he is also an admirer of 
yours, and he was just sending me a copy of his work 
to send to you when he learned that Mr. Eathbone had 
anticipated him : but I said I would let you know his 
intentions. The merit of the counsels of peace, of tole- 
rance, of mild government, with which they abound, can 
only be appreciated by recollecting that these lectures 
were delivered by a Begins Professor to the sons, for the 
most part, of aristocratic, Tory and Churchly families, 
in those evil days when Cambridge had nearly lost all 
memory of her former honourable distinction as the Whig 
University. The ruling powers always regarded them 
with jealousy, and, as far as they decently could, discou- 
raged the young men from attending them. They found, 
however, large and attentive and gratified audiences. 
The style appears to me a model for the purpose — lively, 
easy, extremely colloquial, but rising to eloquence and 
brilliancy where the subject prompts ; and there is over 
all that charm of perfect sincerity and simplicity of heart, 
which I think must be felt even by those who know not 
how much it is the characteristic of the man. You will 
own that he has done thorough justice to the merits of 
all par ies in your War of Independence, and that he 
knows how to estimate Washington. 

It warmed and cheered my heart to read your confes- 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



357 



sums of happiness ; few have such to make. For myself, 
I think life has become dearer to me since I was last in 
danger of losing it ; and this, strange to tell, in the face 
of a grievous anxiety, which is even now preying upon 
my heart. The health of my brother Charles, than whom 
I have no nearer and no dearer object of affection in the 
world, has long been in a very precarious state. His 
sufferings at this vervtinie are exceedingly severe — and 
I tremble to think what may be the result. So dearly 
do I love him — so much has his life-long affection become 
a part of my very self — that I can think of one circum- 
stance only which could render it tolerable to me to live 
after him — the prospect of being in some manner useful 
to his dear children. 

Tour friends the Farrars are just at present my neigh- 
bours. I fear he is still a great sufferer by sleeplessness, 
and the train of miserable ideas which attend it. A 
severe trial for his excellent wife, but in which there is 
no fear of her failing. I was glad to see her look in 
bodily health and vigour. 

I am not now in spirits to add more. 

Yours truly ever, 

L. Aiken. 



To De. Chaxxixg, 

Hampstead, May 16, 1840. 

My dear Friend,— Accept my cordial thanks for your 
two new pieces, both of which I have read with deep 
interest and high approbation. That on the " Elevation 
of the Working Classes" embodies much that I have often 
felt and thought, without being able to bring it out ; in 
fact, it applies to all classes ; and when I have seen, as 
I often have, families of young persons, diligent, docile, 



358 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



willing and able to acquire rudiments of many sciences, 
many languages, considerably skilled in various accom- 
plishments, but without one original thought, one lofty 
sentiment, I have murmured to myself in sorrow — To 
what avail ? Hannah More had the merit of raising her 
voice against mere "finger accomplishments" in female 
education ; and I regard her as the setter of the fashion 
of domiciliary visits of ladies to the poor — a fashion 
which can only be followed to advantage by such among 
them as are capable of elevating the minds, not merely 
administering to the desire of temporal goods, in those 
with whom they converse. The kind of elevation you 
describe is certainly very rare at present, and perhaps 
will always be so, but it is nevertheless the point to be 
aimed at, and I rejoice that you have taken up the cause. 

I was much struck and touched with your sermon, 
and I agree very much with your views on the great and 
dark question of the origin of evil; but there is one 
passage in which, as I feel it a duty to inform you, you 
have laid yourself open to severe, and, I fear I must 
say, just censure. " They never can be fair," exclaimed 
a candid and excellent friend of mine, and your great 
admirer in general, on finishing your sermon — "They 
never can be fair, these divines — not even Dr. Channing. 
Here is a passage which is an absolute slander — an 
aspersion which he had no right to make, and which is 
not true;" and he read the passage: " Such scepticism 
is a moral disease, the growth of some open or lurking 
depravity." " What business," he continued, " has any 
one to impute such motives ? What has the view which 
a mind takes of arguments on a difficult subject to do 
with depravity ? The spirit of this judgment is precisely 
the same with that of a Catholic priest, who says 1 you 
must be very wicked if you do not believe transubstan- 
tiation/" I sat petrified with amazement at this burst 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



359 



of indignation, and I endeavoured to mitigate my friend 
—one of the mildest of men on common occasions ; but 
it was to no purpose. I could only plead that the offen- 
sive passage had probably escaped you by inadvertence. 
" But/ I said, " I will mention it to him, and we shall 
hear what he says/' " Pray do," exclaimed my friend ; 
" he ought to be told of it/' I have now kept my word. 
I own that, for my own part, I cannot comprehend a 
doubt of the goodness of the Deity. We all feel that He 
has bestowed on us much intentional good: to believe 
that He has also inflicted upon us designed, that is pur- 
poseless evil, would be to conceive of Him as a Being 
weak, inconsistent, infirm of purpose, more than any wise 
and good man — an idea at which reason revolts. At the 
same time, all that I have known of the characters of 
men who speculate freely, boldly, and of course some- 
times absurdly, on these abstruse questions, convinces 
me that moral character stands quite apart from theories 
of this nature. If divines were admitted to know the 
real sentiments of men of cultivated and reflecting minds 
on religious topics, they would often be surprised, and 
even shocked, to find how many, and what kind of per- 
sons, they stab in the dark. By general reflections of 
this nature, they might even be alarmed at the deep, 
silent hatred of their whole order which these insults 
cause to rankle in the bosoms of a class possessed of so 
much real, though usually latent power. This particular 
doubt of the goodness of Providence I have often heard 
discussed among wise and excellent men ; and the con- 
clusion has usually been, that perfect wisdom and good- 
ness, combined with that absolutely unlimited power for 
which divines contend, are inconsistent with the evil 
which we see in the world ; that you must limit one, at 
least, of the attributes ; and that power was, on the whole, 
that which seemed most susceptible of such limitation. 



360 



TO DR. CHANNXNG. 



To me, neither this nor any other solution of the problem 
appears entirely satisfactory. I believe it to be one which 
we have not at present the means of solving ; but I believe 
that it will be solved, so as entirely to " vindicate the 
ways of God to man/' At the same time, I know those 
who take a darker view of the subject, to whom you, if 
you knew them, would be as far as any one from imputing 
depravity, however secret. 

Enough, however, of this. You will, I know, rejoice 
with me that the anxiety respecting the health of my 
brother Charles, which tormented me when I last wrote, 
has now subsided. He is now very nearly restored to 
health, and I have great pleasure in knowing that his 
frequent visits to me at Hampstead have been a prin- 
cipal means of his recovery. The breezes of this fresh 
hill-top are often the best of cordials to the dwellers in 
our overgrown metropolis. This great and busy hive 
is at present in its busiest and fullest season — in full 
hum — but I know not that there is any great object of 
general attention much deserving your notice. One book, 
indeed, there is which would interest you by the cha- 
racter of the writer, although many of the topics treated 
in it are probably too exclusively English for you to 
enter into. This is the "Life of Sir Samuel Eomilly," 
published by his sons, and composed of his own diaries 
and letters. A more pure and perfectly disinterested 
public character has never been recorded ; in these quali- 
ties he might be compared with your own Washington. 
'No man in memory had so much personal weight in 
the House of Commons; and it was this alone which 
enabled him, in those bad times when the very name 
of Eeform was hooted down by a corrupt administra- 
tion and its sycophants, to force upon the legislature 
some of those mitigations of our sanguinary penal code 
which opened the way for the extensive improvements 



TO DE. CHANNINGr. 



361 



which have since been demanded by public opinion, 
and carried through by our best and ablest statesmen. 
In many other causes, also, he stood forth the undaunted, 
and also the skilful, champion of humanity, justice, and 
sound policy. His private life was that of the most vir- 
tuous, tender and amiable of men. If the book comes 
into your hands, read at least his own brief memoir of 
his early days. You will find it one of the most beau- 
tiful pieces of autobiography imaginable. It is remark- 
able that poetry should have been his first love, the 
object of his earliest aspirations — a grand confirmation 
of what I have always suspected, that the heights of 
virtue will scarcely be reached but by those who behold 
them clothed in the " hues unbounded of the sun " — 
hues lent them by a warm and bright imagination ! 

The Puseyites, or Jfewnianiacs, as I believe they are 
more generally called, are certainly making progress. 
We have clergy who refuse to dine out on Wednesdays 
and Fridays, being the fasts ordained by the English 
Church. The other day a curate published a manifesto 
against a Bible Society, headed by two clergymen, for 
presuming to meet and to distribute the Scriptures hi 
his parish. He declares it to be heresy for any one to 
give away Bibles, excepting the person deputed by the 
bishop to do so — namely, the officiating parish priest. 
A bold step towards Popery ! What is far more extra- 
ordinary, there are two laymen, members of the House 
of Commons, who think fit to scourge themselves ! It is 
in vain to talk of the illumination of the age : at all 
times there have been, and I believe at all times there 
will be, born fanatics, whose destiny is to make, if they 
do not find, absurdities to believe and to propagate. I 
see no more probability that this distortion of under- 
standing should become obsolete, than that squinting 
eyes or hump-backs should cease to be found. At the 

E 



362 



TO DE. CHAINING. 



same time, I think that this exaggerated notion of Church 
power is less likely than any form of superstition to 
find favour in the sight of the English people at large. 
There is a constant and natural hostility between High- 
churchism and Whig, still more Kadical, principles in 
government. Under our present Liberal administration, 
nothing is done by the State to strengthen the hands 
of the Church. The Chief Justice has just pronounced 
an important decision (that parish vestries cannot by 
law be compelled to vote money for Church-rates), which 
is likely ultimately to liberate Dissenters from this un- 
just burden ; and which strikes also at the pride and 
assumption of the Establishment a blow which will be 
deeply felt. 

And so the French have set their hearts on having 
back the relics of their Emperor from his prison-isle, 
that they may make them the object of a grand show 
and ceremony ! It was right, I think, in our govern- 
ment to grant the request, since they regard it as an 
obligation, but I think it a mournful sign of the temper 
and spirit of that people. Military glory, it seems, is 
still their idol. To their restless temper, peace is insipid, 
freedom is indifferent; they must have excitement, and 
that nothing can yield so largely as war. I tremble for 
the results. To their king, this worship of the memory 
of Bonaparte must be exceedingly offensive. Nothing, 
certainly, but fear of the consequences of refusal, can 
have induced him to concur in their wish, and the same 
fear may soon compel him to seize some pretext for 
going to war with one or other of his neighbours ; and 
so the flame would be rekindled throughout Europe. 
Horrible anticipation ! The mind cannot entertain it 
without shuddering. What, alas ! in such a case, would 
become of all our hopes for the improvement of man 
and his destiny ? 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



Our rumours of war seem blowing over. The King 
of Naples is wise enough to submit. We shall settle our 
dispute amicably with you. China, indeed, we shall 
apparently be obliged to take some hostile measures 
with. — but we still hope matters may soon admit of 
arrangement. 

At home, I think we are going on well in almost all 
respects. The Tories seem further from power than 
ever, and mknj quiet reforms, which do much unosten- 
tatious good, are in progress. I know of nothing in our 
political state to excite apprehension, except it be the 
perpetual turbulence and restlessness of O'Connell, urg- 
ing on his countrymen to arrogant claims and absurd 
enterprizes, and the violence and folly of our own Eadi- 
cals. These absurd people maj^ go on to produce some 
reaction in favour of Toryism — but that is all, I think, 
that is to be feared. Even with these men, I hope that 
a wise and liberal government will know how to deal. 
Believe me ever yours, with true regard, 

L. AfKTN". 

To Miss Aikix. 

. July 18, 1840. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — How good you are ! The day 
before yesterday I received your letter of May, whilst 
that of March is unanswered. I am glad to learn that 
my lectures on the Elevation of the Labouring Class 
gave you any satisfaction. I have the subject much at 
heart, but I wrote the lectures in a state of exhaustion, 
which made me fear that they would do little good. I 
was glad, too, that you gave me the criticism of your 
u candid and excellent friend " on a passage in my ser- 
mon on Dr. Follen. To be sure, " slander " was a strong 

K 2 



364 



TO MISS ATKTNT. 



word ; but no matter ; I like to know precisely how I 
affect others. Your friend wronged me in thinking that 
I spoke as a theologian. Iso ; I spoke from a moral 
impulse, a deep moral instinct, from as genuine and 
native a feeling as your friend's indignation. I spoke 
without sufficient care: I meant to say, as the whole 
passage shows, that fixed doubts of God's goodness, 
which the soul rests in, indicate something wrong within; 
and I cannot get over the conviction. In truth, this 
state of mind is almost incomprehensible. Atheism I 
comprehend, and I shall not be quick to set it down to 
depravity ; but that a man believing in an intelligent 
Author of the universe, should question His benevolent 
purpose, and eA~en ascribe malignity, amazes me : that 
his own soul should not teach him better, amazes me. 
There is something horrible in the thought. All the 
guilt of the human race combined would be a light 
matter compared with the wickedness of the Creator 
bringing us into life to torture us or to abandon us to 
the play of merciless elements. This is no matter of 
theoloor with me, but of moral feeling. I am indeed 
jealous on the subject of God's goodness. Your lan- 
guage on the subject is too measured and cold. What 
have we been living for, if we have not come to a gene- 
rous trust in our Maker ? I can forgive your friend every- 
thing but the ascription of a priestly spirit to me. If I 
know my own heart, I have not a particle of the spirit 
of " the order" within me. I see nothing peculiar in the 
relation of the religious teacher to God — no other rela- 
tion than every man sustains ; and I claim no rights 
but such as I extend to all. However, I will not wax 
warm about language which was not weighed very care- 
fully. I am sorry to have wounded a good man, and I 
will modify my language, so that my real thought may 
be brought out. 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



365 



I was truly rejoiced at your account of your brother's 
health. One cloud is scattered in your sky, and I hope 
you will enjoy the brightness. Your whole letter, in- 
deed, breathes a freedom of spirit, an animation, which 
I have missed in some preceding ones. Tou are well 
enough, I suppose, to work; and what a happiness is 
this ! I am a poor labourer myself ; to-day I have 
written two hours only ; and yet this effort, not wholly 
unsuccessful, will light up the day. The thought that 
I may live to give out my mind is full of exhilaration. 
Perhaps my case is singular : I am sixty years old, and 
yet have only begun the work which I have had in view a 
large part of my life. My friend Tuckerman used almost 
to be angry at my postponing my task ; but I told him 
I must bide my time and see my way clear before me ; 
and now that the time has come, I have little strength 
for the toil. Yet I do not faint ; I feel, indeed, that I 
may be deluded as to the importance of what I have 
undertaken. Many men, far my superiors, have laid out 
their strength in a work which the world has refused to 
read, and their names a.re perpetuated by writings to 
which they attached no importance. I feel the uncer- 
tainty of all that I am to do ; but it seems to me I have 
something worth saying, and I shall be grateful for the 
opportunity. If men should think differently, I shall 
not quarrel with them. That my own spiritual educa- 
tion will go on by trying to bring forth w r hat is deepest 
in my own soul, I am sure, and I shall do the more for 
the effort, if not here, yet hereafter. I sometimes have 
a fear, and that is that my enthusiasm may be somewhat 
chilled by time. My memory I know will decline, and 
my capacity of labour ; but the chill of the heart, this I 
do not like to think of. But I hope. My heart has kept 
its warmth under two severe trials ; that is, the freest 
inquiry and a growing knowledge of the world. I think, 



366 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



too, that it lias never been a superficial warmth. May 
I go on loving more and more fervently to the last ! I 
have little fear that the intellect will be wanting to my 
next work, if the heart will but live and soar. I did not 
mean to give you so much of myself ; but it so happens 
that my mind just now has taken this direction, and my 
letters are very apt to be tinged by what I think about 
at the time. 

I see no need of thinking that some are " born fana- 
tics/' that the intellect has a <( squint " from nature, &c. 
The social nature of man and his consciousness of weak- 
ness explain the importance into which the idea of "the 
Church" has swelled. How natural is it that men whose 
spiritual lethargy has been roused by coming together, 
by sympathy, by joint rites, by the priest's appeal to the 
multitude, should come to think that grace flows through 
the Church and the priest ! As to your self-scourging 
member of Parliament, this is a natural consequence of 
a religion in which terrible punishment is the grand 
feature. It encourages me to see so much consequent- 
ness in these delusions. There is a method in this spi- 
ritual madness, and a degree of rationality amidst the 
wrecks of reason. Eeason must then triumph at last. 

You write more encouragingly about public affairs. 
I have more and more confidence in your ministry ; but 
how can they stand if they are worsted in almost every 
new election ? Conservatism seems to triumph at the 
polls, and is not this a sign of public opinion ? I pro- 
mise myself much from Sir S. Eomilly's Life. I am 
reading now with delight Professor Smyth's Lectures. 
"What a whole-hearted man ! as we Yankees say. The 
love of liberty seems his very life-blood ; and with this 
noble enthusiasm, how calm, how wise he is ! We de- 
claimers may take a lesson from him. On one point I 
should like his opinion and Mr. Hallam's. What was 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



367 



the relation of Isabella of Castile to the Inquisition ? 
Was she merely carried on by the spirit of the age, or 
did her religion make her a forwarder of that abominable 
institution ? Did she go beyond her time ? I have read 
much of Mr. Hallam's " History of the Literature/' &c., 
with great pleasure. It is a luxury to read works of 
this character, in which accurate and profound research 
is united with broad views, fine taste and lofty feeling. 
The capacity of labour implied in such a work fills me 
with admiration. I feel as if I had been an idler all my 
life. Will you tell me what place Carlyle holds among 
you, whether he influences opinion ? We have some 
signs among us of a " transcendental " school, as it is 
called, i.e. we have some noble-minded men, chiefly 
young, who are dissatisfied with the present, have thrown 
off all tradition, and talk of deriving all truth from their 
own souls. They have some great truths at bottom, but 
of course wanting the modification which always comes 
from looking over the whole ground and seeing what is 
due to other truths. One discussion has risen out of 
this movement, respecting the place which miracles hold 
in Christianity. This school rest the religion wholly on 
internal evidence. A greater question will be, What was 
the inspiration of Christ ? whether it was different in 
kind or only in degree from the inspiration granted to 
all ? This begins to be agitated. In all these things I see 
aspiration after something better, not always wise — how 
can it be ?— but a presage of good, whether near or dis- 
tant. I hope to hear that your health continues to 
improve. 

Wishing you every blessing, 

I remain very truly your friend, 

Wm. E. Changing. 



368 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, October 11, 1840. 

My dear Friend, — Your last letter was very peculiarly 
welcome to me on many accounts. I felt that in giving 
you the " vpsissima verba " of my vehement friend, I had 
put your forbearance to a severe trial ; but it has stood 
it, as I thought it w T ould, nobly ; and my friend begs to 
apologize for the word " slander/' and is quite satisfied 
that he was more slanderous in imputing to you a priestly 
spirit. In short, your candour has quite turned his heart, 
and it is a heart worth turning. Tou are quite right in 
saying that my language on the subject was " too cold" 
and measured ; it was indeed purposely kept down, for 
I wished to see the argument taken up by you alone, 
and was only desirous to show that / was not one of 
those touched by your censure. In fact, the goodness of 
God is what I have never doubted, amid all my doubts, 
more than just enough to make me look into the proofs. 
I believe, rather I feel it, just as I feel my own exist- 
ence ; I have, like you, a difficulty in conceiving the 
horror and the absurdity of an opposite opinion ; and 
far rather would I endure any possible earthly misery, 
than lose my trust in Him who is all. Could there ever 
have been a good man without a Maker of man infinitely 
superior in goodness ? One of Hume's Essays, in which 
he affirms that we might infer from the world around 
us an intelligent, but not a moral cause, struck me, on 
re-reading it a few years since, as so utterly illogical, so 
truly absurd, that I could only account for it, from a 
writer of his acuteness, by supposing that he thought it 
prudent to throw this cloak over his Atheism. Yet it is, 
indeed, worse than Atheism— as bad as ultra-Calvinism. 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



309 



You ask if Carlyle makes any progress amongst us. Not 
with the thoroughly-read or the thorough thinkers, the 
intellectual leaders of society ; but he finds audiences, 
and some readers and admirers (I can scarcely say dis- 
ciples, for I believe nobody pretends to make out his 
system), amongst the half-read and half-thinkers. You 
will not admit, with me, that some men are born fanatic 0 , 
but perhaps you will allow to Coleridge that some are 
born Platonists and others Aristotelians — in other words, 
that some minds have a bent towards the mystical, others 
towards the experimental in philosophy — that this dif- 
ference is innate, and is ever reproducing itself under 
different shapes and names. In this country the expe- 
rimental has long borne sway, with Locke for its leader; 
of late there has been somewhat a spirit of revolt ; tran- 
scendentalism has some considerable advocates, and I 
think I can perceive that the general tone on these sub- 
jects is, in degree, modified. The High-church dearly love 
a system which draws a distinction between the reason 
and the understanding, and affirms that doctrines which 
appear to the latter a contradiction in terms may be all 
the more conformable to the dictates of the former — the 
higher and nobler faculty — this, you may know, is the 
language held by Coleridge concerning the Trinity. I 
think, with you, that some great truths may lie at the 
root of these speculations, but many processes are to be 
gone through before they can be brought into daylight 
and fitted for use. In the meantime, I both dislike and 
distrust the jargon — the cant of which Carlyle has such 
a quantity. You would see in the " Edinburgh Review " 
an article on his history, which appears to me to be an 
able exposure of his quackery, and at the same time a 
candid estimate of his merits and talents. The article 
is by a friend of mine, a man of immense reading, for 
his age, and a paragon among reviewers for downright 

e 3 



370 



TO DR. CHAOTINGr. 



honesty and impartiality — the rarest of all qualities when 
the writer lies screened under the irresponsible we. 

The grand field for activity amongst us at this time 
is that of general education. A prodigious impulse has 
been given by the apparently insignificant grant which 
our Liberal government has extorted from the public 
purse, in spite of Tory opposition. The Established 
priesthood having been baffled, and by the ministry 
also, in its attempt to assume the control of public 
instruction, and force its own creeds and catechisms on 
the children of Dissenters, we may now hope that a free, 
large, and truly national system of instruction will be 
adopted. Little as I am disposed to sanguine views of 
human improvement, I own I do look with ardent hope 
to a general amelioration of manners and principles as 
the ultimate result of this exorcism of ignorance and 
brutality. 

I trust we are in no present danger of the return of 
the Tories to power. This ministry has been well com- 
pared to the logging-stone, which one right arm can set 
shaking, but a hundred could not throw down. It seems 
to gain strength by the tempests which it weathers. 
There is great dissension, too, in the Tory camp, and 
some important desertions have taken place. But, oh ! 
where will be all our hopes, should we see ourselves 
again plunged in the misery and wickedness of war ? 
There is no wish for it, but, on the contrary, the greatest 
horror of it, as I sincerely believe, both in the govern- 
ment and the nation at large ; but I fear that the spirit 
of the French people is the very reverse. They long to 
revenge themselves on their conquerors, to gain territory, 
plunder and glory — they abound in turbulent spirits, for 
whom peace offers no prospects, no career. I believe, 
indeed, that their king and all their best statesmen are 
pacifically disposed, but the awful doubt is whether they 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



371 



may not be compelled to yield to the torrent. Perhaps, 
after all, the heavy national debt of both countries is the 
best security for their peaceful behaviour. 

You inquire about Isabella of Castile and her relation to 
the Inquisition, and I conclude, from what you say, that 
you have not read Prescott's life of her. He is her decided 
eulogist, and insists on our thinking her one of the most 
amiable of women: at the same time, he distinctly states 
that she directly violated the laws of her country in insti- 
tuting that new tribunal — that no provocation whatever 
had been given her by the unhappy Moors or the Jews, 
the joint objects of her relentless and atrocious tyranny. 
In short, her persecutions appear to be amongst the most 
completely wicked — the most utterly inexcusable, on 
record. She had not even the apology of bad example ; 
her Inquisition was an absolute novelty in the world. 
It is true that it was the invention and suggestion of 
an execrable monk, her father-confessor ; but neither 
had Isabella the excuse of a weak and pliant character ; 
she effectually withstood, on many occasions, the influ- 
ence of a husband whom she is said to have loved : and 
I do not believe that she would have complied with 
her confessor in this matter, had she not expected to 
strengthen her royal authority by the destruction or 
banishment of her misbelieving subjects. Her bigotry, 
like that of Louis XIV., was little else than the spirit of 
despotism in disguise. The persecutions of our bloody 
Mary were venial, compared with those of her grand- 
mother. Site had great provocations. 

Have you read Ranke's " History of the Popes of the 
Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries," translated by 
Mrs. Austin ? If not, think that you have a treasure 
laid up in store. The writer has collected and studied 
his authorities with true German industry, and has 
poured a flood of new light on the most important 



372 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



period of modern history ; and I, for one, feel it a real 
misfortune to have groped through a large part of that 
period without his guiding lamp. The history of the 
Papacy is so closely intertwined with that of every 
European nation, that no one in future must presume 
to write of Tudors, or Stuarts, or Bourbons, without 
consulting Eanke ; and to possess a true history of this 
wonderful line of monarch-priests, is a greater gain to 
philosophy than it is possible to estimate. 

But why clo I speak of books to read, to you who are 
so much better employed in writing ? I cordially con- 
gratulate both you and the public on your task, and 
particularly on the ardent spirit with which you are 
pursuing it. I long to know vihat your work is to be, 
but, be it what it may, I am strongly persuaded that it 
will prove to be something that the world " will not easily 
let die." What you have been meditating half your life 
cannot but be something of importance, and worthy of 
general attention. You did well to " bide your time/' 
and to wait till you were sure of having the ear of the 
public in right of your former publications. May health 
and strength be given you to complete all that is in your 
heart ! 

In my little, quiet way, I am jogging on comfortably 
enough. My spirits have lately had a fillip in the shape 
of a journey. Thanks to the railroad, I was able to 
convey myself, with little fatigue, to Southampton, where 
I found a kind friend in waiting to convey me eight 
miles further, to a beautiful mansion on the skirts of the 
New Forest. This is the largest sylvan tract remaining 
in England, and I was surprised to find how primitive 
a character it still preserves. A stone marks the spot 
where Eufus fell ; his stirrup is kept as a relic at the 
royal hunting-lodge, where the forest courts are held ; 
and, on the whole, it seemed to me that his name was 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



373 



quite as current in the mouths of men as that of 
George III., the last monarch who hunted here. The 
cottagers are devotedly attached to their native soil; 
they have continued on the same spot, from father to 
son, many of them from the Norman times, in fact ; they 
enjoy many advantages from the neighbourhood of the 
forest, besides that delightful sense of liberty which 
waits upon the roamer of " the good green wood," and 
which he who has once tasted would scarcely exchange 
for a palace. The w T ood consists chiefly of noble oaks and 
stately beeches, and the undulations of the surface open 
a thousand picturesque glimpses of hill and vale, open 
glade and tangled wood, sprinkled with cottages em- 
bowered in flower-garden and orchard, and mansions 
standing proudly on their emerald lawns. From the 
higher eminences you command the Isle of Wight, with 
its bays and headlands, and the soft yet fresh sea-air 
breathes the very spirit of health. I was in a state of 
enchantment during my whole visit difficult to describe. 
Since I began this letter, I have been reading an article 
on all Carlyle's works in the " Quarterly Eeview." This 
author, who sets himself so vehemently against all 
"forms," ought to feel himself rebuked by the praise 
which he has extorted from the ultra High-church re- 
viewer by his mystical use of the word faith, from which 
it is easy for such a reviewer to extract arguments 
favourable to ecclesiastical authority. Woe unto us if 
our philosophers are to be as hostile to the employment 
of reason in the investigation of truth as our high-priests ! 

I must at length put a period to my long letter. I 
must answer some other correspondents far more briefly. 
Ever yours, with true respect and friendship, 

L. Aikin. 



374 



TO MISS AIKIK 



To Miss Aikik 

Boston, January 1, 1841. 

My dear Miss Aikin,— I have no time to write a letter 
in reply to your last of October, but this was so accept- 
able that I ought not to let our steam-packet sail without 
some acknowledgment of it. You write under some fears 
of a war. Let us be grateful that the storm is blown 
over, or rather that its ravages are so confined. I confess 
I am shocked by your victories in Syria and your attack 
on China. My mind continually asks whether there is 
no relief from these terrible social evils, and I am con- 
tinually driven back to the conviction that little outward 
melioration is to be hoped but from an inward one. At 
the same time, I see how outward evils obstruct the 
moral and intellectual advancement in which their 
remedy lies. In the course of the last few months, I 
have been more struck than ever with the terrible power 
conferred by our present social condition on individuals. 
A few men might have involved the civilized world in 
war — might have broken up the intercourse of nations, 
reduced millions to want, and made themselves felt in 
every human habitation over half the globe. I have 
asked, Ought a few statesmen thus to hold in their hands 
the destinies of the race ? I ask, too, if this fearful con- 
centration of power growing out of our union into com- 
munities ought to exist? Are any men, whether a 
ministry or legislature, worthy of such a trust ? It is 
this vast dazzling power which has intoxicated, maddened 
the selfish great from the beginning ; and history is little 
more than an unravelling of the complicated schemes 
and toils of men for winning it. Is not the prize too 
great to be set before men ? Ought the vast energies 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



of England to become a unity by political combinations 
which the ambitious may turn to their vile purposes ? 
Cannot these vast masses of nations be broken up or 
modified ? I merely state to you thoughts which have 
been rushing through my mind. I have been too busy 
in other ways to follow them out. That some great truth 
may come from pursuing them, I strongly suspect. The 
idea of making essential changes in these colossal accumu- 
lations of power which have lasted so many ages, must 
seem an extravagance, but the national bond is not what 
it once was. Men of different languages are beginning 
to understand a higher bond. 

But I must stop dreaming. Your letter, as I said, 
gave me much pleasure, but I was sorry to read your 
severe strictures on Carlyle. Let us be tolerant. Let 
us be willing that men should talk in their own lan- 
guage, however uncouth — give us their extravagances, if 
they are earnest, strong-minded, generous men. Carlyle 
has often stirred up my spirit and opened to me noble 
fields of thought. I do not know that I owe him many 
new views, but he has made some great ones more real 
to me, and this is no small debt. 

You must have discovered in me a touch of that malady 
called mysticism, and will therefore wonder the less at 
my German leanings. I am, however, no reader of 
German. I have caught this from nobody. It was born 
and bred in me, and therefore more hopeless. Accept 
this hasty expression of thought, if thought it may be 
called, as a testimony to the pleasure you give me by 
writing. 

Very truly your friend, 

AY. E. Chaxxixg. 

A happy new year to you ! The best blessing descend 
on you from above ! I rejoice in your better health. 



376 



TO DR. CHAINING, 



The last " Quarterly Keview," in the review of Carlyle, 
speaks of a new conservative school in France. Do you 
know anything of it ? 



To Dk, Channing. 

Hampstead, Feb. 7, 1841. 

My dear Friend, — Thank you much for your letter, 
and thank you for your " Emancipation/' which I have 
received since. This last has much matter for reflection 
and remark. It is most important not to give any 
handle to the supporters of slavery by the adoption of 
flattering views which may prove delusive. I am by no 
means so indifferent as you to the diminished produce 
of sugar ; and this not solely, nor chiefly, for the sake of 
the planters — though their interests deserve to be con- 
sidered, especially now that they are no longer slave- 
holders — but for the sake of the great cause of emanci- 
pation itself. The effect of the scarcity and dearness of 
sugar in our market has been to cause a vehement effort 
to legalize the importation of slave-grown sugar from 
Brazil or Cuba ; and though this has been resisted by 
the virtue of our ministry, it is said that some has been 
smuggled in ; and I see in newspapers earnest pleadings 
in favour of applying the principles of free-trade to this 
case. If sufficient sugar is not made by the free blacks, 
it certainly will be procured elsewhere, and much to the 
detriment either of their brethren in fetters or of them- 
selves ; for it is now proposed to encourage, by lowering 
duties, the importation of sugar from our East-Indian 
possessions, which are capable of supplying an unlimited 
quantity. What will be the effect of this ? Perhaps 
ultimately to reduce the whole population of the sugar 
islands to poverty and distress. The new luxuries which 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



377 



the blacks have learned to relish — their schools, their 
chapels too — all depend on their raising valuable exports ; 
and Mr. Gurney has been sharply enough attacked for 
advising protective duties to be laid on to secure the 
West-Indian monopoly, which will certainly be broken 
up very shortly either by South American or Indian 
competition. I never wrote such a page of political eco- 
nomy in my life ; nor should have written this, but for 
the higher interests connected with it. I entirely ap- 
prove the spirit of all you say on the Slave question in 
your own country. By the way, our India, which I have 
just mentioned, is an immense field for the speculations 
of the merchant, manufacturer, politician, legislator, phi- 
lanthropist and missionary, to say nothing of the natu- 
ralist and poet. It has been making immense progress 
since it has been thrown open to private enterprize. I 
am never weary of reading the fresh accounts which are 
continually reaching us. The advance making by the 
natives in letters, in arts, in enlightened views and in 
political importance, is grand. Our government is pur- 
suing a noble policy with them — gradually raising them 
to a level with other British subjects by admitting them 
to public offices, and associating their leading men in all 
liberal and benevolent institutions. If the enlightened, 
philanthropic spirit of Bammohun Boy is permitted to 
hover over the native country which he loved so ardently, 
I trust it rejoices in the view. Australia, too, and New 
Zealand ! How many " embryo Englands," as one of our 
travellers calls them, are rising up in the ends of the 
earth! You will not, I hope, rebuke the nationality 
which glories in the thought. — It is, indeed, as you say, 
an awful power, and too great to be trusted to any man, 
to decide on the question of peace and war. But also, 
it can only be exercised by any one when nations are 
disposed to suffer it. In the most important countries 



378 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



of Europe, it is plain that this is no longer the case. 
Even in France it was only by the aid of a great War 
party that Thiers hoped to compass his wicked purpose 
of re-embarking his country on the troubled sea of am- 
bition and conquest ; and his project has been discon- 
certed by the energetic No of all the sounder portion of 
the French people and of total England ; also in some 
measure, it must be allowed, by the formidable attitude 
assumed by the other great powers, and the unwilling 
conviction, even of his own faction, that France could 
not fight them all single-handed. I trust that peace now 
rests on a firmer foundation than before this alarm, and 
before our little war in Syria, which our politicians say 
was absolutely necessary for reducing France to reason, 
and which we may believe to have been so, considering 
the thorough repugnance of our present government to 
a warlike policy. The China question I do not profess 
to understand; but I hope the dispute is well settled 
before now. All is prosperous again with our commerce 
and manufacturers, and we, like you, have perhaps little 
to fear but from the results of a state of things which 
opens such a boundless field to the indulgence of sen- 
suality and luxury. 

I have got a problem for you. Years ago it exercised 
my thoughts, and I wrote a few pages on it ; lately I 
learned from a note in Milman's History of Christianity 
that it had also suggested itself to him and to Arch- 
bishop Whately, and I am proud to find that we all 
incline to the same solution. It is this : Ought we to 
regard the lowest state in which man is found now as 
the true state of nature ? or is the savage the true repre- 
sentative of the primitive man, or a deterioration of 
him ? It was the general theory formerly that man was 
first hunter, then shepherd, then tiller of the soil, and 
by degrees became a builder of cities and inventor of 



TO DK. CHAXXIXG. 



379 



arts and letters. But history is far from supporting this 
system. The oldest records we have, the Jewish Scrip- 
tures, nowhere afford the slightest glimpse of savage life 
or of a hunter state ; and I have been told by a great 
student that there is no knowledge or record of any 
hunter tribe throughout the continent of Asia. In an- 
cient Europe, in America, in New Holland, there have 
been or are tribes in the lowest state of man ; but in 
vour continent there are manifest traces remaining of 
nations in a much higher state of civilization ; and even 
in Australia, the inland peoples are far superior to the 
wretched beings who were found existing on the sea- 
coast : without boats, without nets or hooks, making 
their miserable meals of shell-fish. Herodotus describes 
the frontiers of civilization as everywhere occupied by 
small tribes or peoples, often differing totally in lan- 
guage, manners, occupations, from their next neighbours 
on every side ; and bearing much the appearance of 
wrecks and relics of nations driven up into corners by 
successive floods of invaders poured forth at intervals, 
like the barbarians over the Eoman provinces. It is 
plain that under such circumstances of national ruin and 
personal privation, men considerably advanced might 
sink into the state of savages ; indeed, they could scarcely 
avoid it. On the other hand, we have not a single fact 
in all history to show the possibility of savages rising 
into civilization spontaneously, without the agency, that 
is, of some people in a superior condition. Whatever 
notions people may entertain of the origin of man, this 
is plain, that the progenitors of the race could not have 
supported life unless more instincts or more knowledge 
were vouchsafed to them than are now the portion of 
an infant ; and I know not what obliges us to suppose 
that nothing more than the indispensable was bestowed 
On the whole, then, I hope we may regard the savage 



380 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



state as an infliction brought upon certain tribes by 
untoward accidents — wars, famines, floods, pestilence— 
not the original or general condition of primeval man. 
Let me have your thoughts upon it. Also, pray tell me 
whether you have read Milinan's History of Christianity, 
and what you think of it. Our High-churchmen are 
shocked at so free and fearless a book from a dignitary, 
and judiciously enough, instead of abusing, they try to 
smother it. Their Eeviews dc not choose to have heard 
of the work. It shows immense reading and a store- 
house of curious and interesting facts ; but I cannot say 
that it makes upon my mind any single, strong, definite 
impression ; nor perhaps could one w T ell expect this from 
what may be called a civil history of the religion from 
its origin to the suppression of paganism in the Eoman 
empire. He seems to intend a continuation. — I suppose 
you have had, before now, Professor Smyth's second set 
of lectures on the French Eevolution. They seem to me 
excellent, excepting a few supplementary ones written, 
under the influence of panic, since the passing of the 
Eeform Bill. It hurts me, I confess, that he should 
hold out as a warning to England the frenzied acts of 
French slaves on first breaking their chains. We have 
lived to little purpose under a free government for cen- 
turies, if we now require such lessons to be read us ; 
and I grieve that my dear old friend, whose intentions 
are always good, should thus have suffered himself to 
be scared out of his old Whig principles. Just now I 
think of him with peculiar sympathy, for we are fellow- 
mourners for our excellent and long-tried friend Mr. 
Whishaw. I know I have at some time mentioned him 
to you as eminent for his wisdom, his knowledge and 
his wit. If he had been followed by a Boswell, his 
recorded conversation would have outshone Johnson's. 
Between the men there was the immeasurable distance 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



381 



which lifts the philosopher above the bigot ; and his 
virtue was as distinguished as his understanding. To 
have known, admired and revered him from my child- 
hood, was among my highest privileges ; and in losing 
him I feel as if I had now only quite lost my father. 
He was one of the Auditors of public accounts ; and 
you will wonder to be told that he struggled in vain to 
carry the reform of keeping those accounts in Arabic 
numerals and in the English language, instead of Eoman 
numerals and bad Latin. But Lord Grenville, then 
minister, would hear of nothing so revolutionary as writ- 
ing " Hair-powder duty," instead of " Debituni super 
pulverem crinalem." So much for following the " wis- 
dom of our ancestors " ! I may also mention that Mr. 
W., originally designed for the Church, was obliged to 
change his destination, because the loss of a leg, while 
he w 7 as at college, rendered him canonically ineligible to 
the service of the altar. Are we not a sage people ? — I 
have an extraordinary curiosity to know what is the 
nature of the great work on which you have been so 
long engaged, and what progress you make. Give me 
at least a glimpse when you write, that I may have the 
pleasure of speculating about it. You condescend . to 
call yourself a mystic ; but so clear a writer has, in my 
opinion, no just claim to the title. The " Lives of the 
Queens of England/' by Miss Strickland, is a work of 
great diligence and merit, full of new facts from authen- 
tic records, which throw strong light on the manners of 
our Plantagenet times, full both of interest and amuse- 
ment. There are indeed some mistakes, and the writer 
labours under the usual female misfortune, a want of 
sound and solid literature ; but she merits great com- 
mendation for doing so much and so well as she has. 

Believe me ever yours most truly, 

Lucy Aikin. 



382 



TO MISS AIKEST. 



To Miss Aikin. 

Boston, April 14, 1841. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — I always begin with thanking 
you for your last letter, and I beg you not to think that 
I do so from habit or courtesy. You sometimes make 
an effort to write, I know ; and I want you to know that 
your kindness is not lost. I wish I could repay it ; but 
the spring, while it revives all nature, has rather a 
withering influence on my frame. The mind, indeed, is 
alive to the genial season, and gives as warm a welcome 
as ever to the green blade and bud and flower. But the 
mild breezes make me very languid, and these breezes 
are blown away by chilly, freezing east winds, which 
form the only real objection to our climate. I am half 
tempted to let the steamer go without a letter, but I 
shall be better satisfied with myself, though you may 
not be, if I give you a few lines. 

I feel as strongly as you can the difficulties of the 
sugar question in England, and I have not the wisdom 
to offer a solution. You are now paying the penalties 
of the unnatural restrictive system, and I wish you and 
we and all nations were rid of it. Your late periodicals 
make me hope that the Free-trade principles are spread- 
ing among you, though I feel that their application is to 
be modified by the claims or expectations which have 
grown out of old abuses. How great a benefactor En- 
gland might prove to the world by adopting as her cause 
the abolition of all restrictions, the extension of the freest 
intercourse among all nations ! Is not this the law of 
nature, of humanity, of society ? What is plainer than 
that mutual dependence, mutual services, free exchange 
of products, is the end of Providence in the infinite 
variety of conditions, climates, &c. ? England, I doubt 



TO MISS AIKIX. 



383 



not, will propose this object as far as her own advantage 
is concerned, Will a nation never think of the advan- 
tage of the human race ? We will not complain, how- 
ever, if nations will learn that their own interest is one 
with that of all men, and with the reign of the most 
enlarged justice and love. As to your problem respecting 
the primitive condition of the human race, I wish I 
could aid you. We grope in the dusk in those early 
ages. I cannot doubt, however, that agriculture was the 
first human pursuit. If we regard the first chapters of 
Genesis as traditions, they still retain their value on this 
point. The first man was a " tiller of the ground," and 
almost the first command given him was to " subdue the 
earth." Our first parents undoubtedly received peculiar 
communications from God, but I see no reason for sup- 
posing that these were more than were necessary to give 
an impulse and carry forward the race. It seems the 
grand design of the Creator that man shall work out his 
own good, be the framer of his own destiny. Agriculture 
was the grand art on which human progress depended. 
The hunter and pastoral states necessarily make man 
stationary in lot, by keeping him in perpetual motion. 
All great improvements of condition are fixtures. Archi- 
tecture, which supposes settled residence, is a grand 
moral art. All the other arts, useful and ornamental, 
gather round it. Without a fixed home, one generation 
can transmit little to another. Without property in land, 
there will be no steady productive industry. Accord- 
ingly, agriculture holds a place in our earliest histories. 
In truth, no nations but the most savage have been found 
without it. Our Indians cultivate maize, and the first 
signs our fathers had of the natives at Plymouth were 
their corn-fields. Nothing is easier than to explain 
the origin of hunting and pastoral life. Agriculture is 
laborious, monotonous. At this day, the Yankee flies 



384 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



from the plough, not for the chase, but for trade, and 
delights to roam about, not with flocks, but goods for 
the market. Wild beasts made the first hunters, and 
an Englishman will not wonder that they who began to 
hunt from necessity, made it a trade. As to the rumours 
of a golden age, they are easily explained. The first in- 
habitants of the earth — few in number, without luxuries, 
and with a boundless world around them — lived simply, 
had few quarrels, practised few crimes. How could they 
do otherwise ? Domestic ties alone bound them together. 
Government had not begun to scourge them. Later ages, 
more "improved," and therefore more licentious and 
rapacious, must have looked back on these earlier times 
with a deep consciousness of loss, and imagination found 
in them materials of a paradise. You see I have no faith 
as yet in any great civilization at first. Did you ever 
see the work of Bailly the astronomer, President of the 
National Assembly and Mayor of Paris, in which he 
endeavours to prove the existence in remote antiquity 
of a more highly civilized race than Greece, Eome and 
modern Europe ? I have only heard of it. I think it 
would entertain you. The idea of primitive savageness 
shocks me. Many lean to it from a deep distrust of 
human nature. They think the tiger, after all, lies deepest 
in humanity, and that it has taken ages to tame him. 
I suspect the " taming" has made the tiger. 

I have no time for other topics. I hope you have 
not been troubled by rumours of war between the two 
countries. One thing is plain — you and I will not fight. 
Boston and Hampstead shall, if possible, be excepted in 
the declaration of war. Which predominates in nations, 
folly or madness ? Wishing you all good, 
I am very truly your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 



TO DR. CHAXXIXG. 



385 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, June 12, 1841. 

My dear Friend, — You cannot thank me more sincerely 
for my letters than I thank you for yours. They are 
a true refreshment to my spirit, which often suffers a 
famine from the extreme and increasing scarcity in this 
country of such liberal and enlightened sentiment as 
forms the only food on which it can exist. I allow, freely 
allow, that some useful truths — practical ones — have been 
powerfully argued, successfully promulgated among us, 
of late years. The cause of Free-trade, which I, like you, 
believe to be that of true and just and virtuous policy, 
has gained and, is gaining. Our Corn-laws are at the 
last gasp, and in timber and sugar, I believe, we are going 
right. But, alas ! what avails all this if free speculation 
is taxed to prohibition — if religious liberty lies oppressed, 
stifled, down-trodden — if no man dares to say in the face 
of the world that all opinions have equal rights — that 
no one ought to believe himself entitled to put another to 
silenGe because his doctrines are not those of the majo- 
rity, those that the State has endowed ? We have in 
this country many evils — what country is without? 
What a sign of the times is it that so eminent a natural 
philosopher as Whewell, in his " Life of Galileo/' labours 
to defend the proceedings of the Inquisition against him 
— calls them lenient — seems to suppose that the Church 
has a right to stop the promulgation of any truth which 
it regards as dangerous ! Oh ! I am sick at heart when 
I think upon these things. 

You will see that we are threatened, too, with a Tory 
administration, but this is yet uncertain ; it will depend 
on the new Parliament. Some think we shall see the 
fulfilment of the Duke of Wellington's prediction— that, 

s 



386 



TO DE. CHANNING. 



if the Eeform Bill were carried, parties would be so 
balanced, that it would be impossible to carry on any 
government at all. In France this seems to be almost 
the case. 

I apprehend that the prodigious increase of zeal and 
activity, consequently of rancour, on the part of the 
Established Church, is mainly the result of Catholic 
emancipation, and the strength and courage it has lent 
to the Komanists, which Protestantism feels itself called 
upon to resist with all its might and by all its means, 
Puseyism being one. Such unlooked-for, and often oppo- 
site, effects flow from great public measures. The men 
who have spent their lives in bringing them about often 
live to rue in vain their own success. A consideration 
which, joined to several others, convinces me that fluctua- 
tion, much more than progress, is the great law of human 
affairs. But this you will be loth to admit. 

I was struck with your idea of agriculture being the 
great civilizer of recent man, and I think that it has been 
so in some climates ; but how this great affair of climate 
acts upon every other element of human life and society 
- — how it complicates this whole subject ! I know of 
nothing but the book of Genesis which can be adduced 
in favour of the notion that the whole race sprang from 
a single pair. Probably there were many original races 
adapted to different portions of the earth. " But why go 
on guessing where we cannot know?" Why? because 
we are guessing and speculating animals ! I am ever 
speculating and guessing, because my mind is active and 
my body idle. This whole winter and spring I have been 
nearly a prisoner to the house; latterly I have been 
really ill, but matters seem now mending with me a 
little. I grieve that you should have been so much a 
sufferer. Perhaps we both feel that it is drawing towards 
evening with us. Well, so be it. 



TO "DR. CHAINING. 



387 



As for my book, it is still among the future condi- 
tionals. I am no longer the diligent labourer I once 
was. Your task proceeds, I hope. Great or small, it 
will be of the kind of books that we want, the offspring 
of thought, not of mere reading. Original writers, I be- 
lieve, are always benefactors towards mankind; either 
themselves or their answerers are sure to bring out some 
new truths, or set some old ones in a stronger light. 
Whether Caiiyle deserves at all to be put in the list of 
original thinkers, I am yet in doubt; to me he still 
appears little more than a jargonist. He makes his way 
a little in society, however — aye, and very genteel and 
very correct society — notwithstanding the tone of his 
work on the French Revolution, which is surely radi- 
calism combined with the most odious and mischievous 
moral fatalism. According to him, all crimes and enor- 
mities are " by divine putting on." You do not love the 
doctrines of necessity in any shape : but surely you will 
admit that between the vulgar fatalist and the philo- 
sophic necessarian there is this essential difference, that 
the first talks as if any man may be destined to commit 
a crime, as any man may be destined to die of a fever ; 
the second firmly holds that none but a had man can 
ever be destined to commit a crime, since no man can 
do anything but what he wills to do ; his will, indeed, is 
actuated by motives, but in the mind of a virtuous man 
those which prompt to crime will never gain the pre- 
ponderance. In fact, do we not feel that there are many 
actions which it is impossible, so long as we possess our 
senses, that we should ever find any temptation to com- 
mit ; so fixed is our conviction that nothing could ever 
make it worth our while ? Fatalism is certainly not ori- 
ginal in Carlyle, nor in the French school of writers from 
whom he borrowed it, but I fear they may have done 
Something towards rendering it popular. There is a cir- 



388 



TO DR. CHANNING, 



cumstance respecting the French people at this time 
which I think remarkable, and am in doubt how to inter- 
pret. During their revolution, never was there such 
contempt for human life; blood was poured out like 
water; a man was crushed with as little regard as a 
beetle: now the feeling is so changed that they can 
scarcely bear the idea of capital punishment ; their juries 
find " extenuating circumstances" even in the horrid act 
of a parricide, in order to save him from death. I should 
like to ascribe this scruple to none but good motives or 
causes ; but when I consider how strong is the sentiment 
of moral indignation in every pure and virtuous and 
noble breast — how uniformly all nations, where morals 
have been strict and manners unsophisticated, have 
marked their horror of great crimes by taking away the 
offender from the midst of them, and compare this with 
the acknowledged profligacy and wickedness of Paris, 
and the assertion of those who know its society best, 
that the only inexpiable fault there is evil-speaking — I 
hesitate. My father has somewhere observed that uni- 
versal indulgence is near akin to universal profligacy, 
and I confess that I do not see with satisfaction the 
anxiety manifested in France, and in some degree here 
also, to abolish capital punishments, while crimes are 
rather on the increase. The " godly watch" set upon 
one another by your Puritans was one extreme, and an 
odious one; but the total disregard of the conduct of 
others, where it does not immediately affect ourselves, 
so inculcated at Paris, and perhaps in high life generally, 
is still more fatal to all the lofty sentiments and heroic 
virtues, and certainly favourable to all the vices. 

The completion of this long letter has been accidentally 
delayed for a few days. In the meantime our good min- 
istry has been out-voted. All now depends upon the 
spirit of the people. If they please they can return a 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



389 



majority against the Tories — but will they? since it 
cannot be done without risk to the worldly interests of 
many. The crisis may be called awful, when Ireland is 
taken into the account. I incline, however, to the hoping 
side; so far as this, let who will be in power, public 
opinion must be respected, and, sooner or later, all really 
salutary measures must be carried ; the question is one 
of this year or next with regard to several of the more 
important. But no such calm language as this will be 
held on the hustings, and the evils of party virulence 
will abound. Alas for those who speak or write as the 
servants of truth and posterity in the midst of party 
discord ! You, I trust, are safe from its influence. May 
you only be favoured with health and strength for the 
completion of your work ! I long to see it. 
Pray believe me ever your affectionate friend, 

Lucy Aikin. 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, June 30, 1841. 

My dear Friend, — Many thanks for your " Memoirs 
of Dr. Tuckerman" and the accompanying Journal. I 
believe they will cause me to send you almost a pam- 
phlet in return ; but you, who enjoin me sometimes to 
write fearlessly what I think, will not, perhaps, be impa- 
tient under this result. Your character of your friend 
appears to me exceedingly candid and discriminating, 
as well as affectionate. It is unfortunately true, that 
with all his heroism of benevolence, he did not make 
an agreeable impression here in general society. This 
was partly because, like all men of one idea, especially 
such as are eloquent, he could neither speak, nor suffer 
others to speak, of anything else in his presence — which 



390 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



wore out the patience even of the best-disposed ; partly 
because, for want of knowledge either of the state of the 
poor with us, or of the plans adopted for their benefit, 
he, in the words of a very benevolent friend of mine, 
to whom I introduced him, " recommended as novelties 
the very things we had all been practising for thirty 
years/' 

It might well have been supposed, even by those igno- 
rant of the fact, that in an old and densely-peopled land 
like ours, where great inequality of conditions had always 
prevailed, and where, as we are apt to flatter ourselves, 
humanity had always been a striking feature of the 
national character, many schemes must have been put 
to the proof for the relief of such destitution, physical 
and moral, as our great system of parish support could 
not reach. But well might Dr. Tuckerman have failed 
to be led by this consideration to acquaint himself fully 
w T ith the facts, when an unworthy Englishman goes so 
far in ignorance or ill-will as to calumniate his country 
on this very head. I refer to the very offensive speech 
of one Mr. Giles, of Liverpool, reported in the Journal 
you have sent me. It has pleased this person, after 
judiciously pointing out the efforts of pastor Oberlin 
as a kind of compensation for the horrors of the French 
Eevolution, to advert generally to the exertions making 
in favour of the poor and indigent young, " through the 
diffusion of an education adapted to raise the soul more 
and more from earth, and point it heavenward/' He 
professes, however, to speak on this subject with "horror 
and shame," as a native of England, the only country 
" wanting in her duty " on this head. While " the proud 
despotism of Prussia/' as he says, " trains up her youth, 
from the cradle to manhood, in a knowledge of them- 
selves and the world around them, free-born England 
casts them off as orphans/ 5 And he goes on to repre- 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



391 



sent our agricultural and our manufacturing population 
as alike existing in a state of sordid, almost savage igno- 
rance, and the last, as abandoned to all the excesses of 
the worst passions of mankind, utterly " neglected by 
those whose wealth and power they secure." 

In England, misrepresentation like this would not 
deserve refutation ; but it may not be labour lost to 
offer to you and to your fellow-philanthropists beyond 
the Atlantic, a slight sketch capable of showing both 
what has actually been done here in this great cause, 
and the circumstances which have rendered it imprac- 
ticable to do more, or more speedily, or in a different 
manner. 

After the establishment and wide diffusion of Sunday- 
schools, the first comprehensive scheme for popular in- 
struction was that of Joseph Lancaster, schools on whose 
system forthwith arose by hundreds on every side. It 
is indeed true that the clergy, and other enemies to the 
diffusion of education among the lower classes, especially 
if independent of the control of the Church, opposed the 
poor Quaker with disgraceful virulence, and nothing 
could have upheld him but the protecting hand of 
George III., and the energy of his pious wish "that 
every poor child in his dominions should be enabled to 
read its Bible." A kind of compromise at length took 
place ; Dr. Bell and the Church Catechism were intro- 
duced into the system, and, under the name of National 
schools, we have still all over the country multitudes 
of establishments, supported by voluntary subscription, 
which afford to thousands the rudiments of common 
knowledge, and some acquaintance, it is to be presumed, 
with their duties to God and man. 

A system of national education at the public expense 
was next projected and moved in the House of Com- 
mons by Mr. Brougham. It was rejected — and why ? 



392 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



Because the necessity of neutralizing the hostility of 
the clergy had compelled him, by the provisions of his 
Bill, to subject the whole to their superintendence and 
authority. All classes of Dissenters rose as one man 
against such stipulations, and by their wise jealousy, 
or just indignation,^the measure was thrown out. In a 
country enjoying less either of civil or religious liberty 
this could not have occurred — not, for example, " in the 
proud despotism of Prussia." Without the command of 
the sovereign, no such project could there have been 
brought forward ; and had he commanded, it must have 
been carried into execution, whoever was jealous or in- 
dignant. This attempt, however, drew great attention 
to the subject, and was by no means unproductive of 
good. " Let us alone," exclaimed the "free-lorn " En- 
glish, " and we will do it ourselves." Infant schools, 
perhaps the most effective of all the means yet adopted 
for the prevention of early corruption of morals, were 
devised, and, with the rapidity of an epidemic, over- 
spread the w^hole face of the land. An active rivalry 
between the sects on one hand, and the Church, which 
had now found it needful to buckle in earnest to the 
unwelcome task, on the other, effectually prevented the 
zeal on either part from flagging. The small aid from 
the public purse since obtained by a Whig ministry, on 
terms as equitable as the bench of bishops would allow, 
has given a fresh stimulus, by the conditions annexed to 
all grants, to the exertions]of voluntary subscribers. The 
difficulty has been to find fit teachers in sufficient num- 
bers. Institutions, however, have been founded for the 
supply of this demand, and should the prosperity of the 
people keep pace with their generous ardour, the English 
people may soon contemplate their own plans for popular 
education with a glow of satisfaction, to which the Prus- 
sian vassal, for whom " drill obligation" and "school 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



393 



obligation" stand on the same ground of compulsion, 
guarded by the same legal penalties, must for ever re- 
main a stranger. 

All that a free government could properly do by posi- 
tive enactment it has done. It is now compulsory on 
the owners of factories, on the managers of workhouses, 
the superintendents of prisons and penitentiaries, the 
captains of ships of war, to provide for the children and 
youth under their charge the means or opportunities 
both of school learning and religious instruction — and 
is this little ? If, after all, it must be confessed that 
there is still a great and lamentable deficiency in the 
means of carrying civilization, by which I understand 
a just and influential sense of the true interests of human 
nature, throughout our vast population, it would be equi- 
table at least to weigh more deliberately than some cen- 
surers seem to have done the magnitude of the task, 
and the difficulties to be surmounted in its execution. 
Clusters of factories, mills and warehouses, rise among 
us like exhalations ; much within the memory of man, 
our principal seats of manufacture have swelled from 
moderate country towns, sometimes from nameless ham- 
lets, into aggregates of human dwellings, exceeding in 
population most of the capital cities of Europe. What 
provision could exist in these places for gratuitous edu- 
cation, or who was there to supply the want ? What 
orphan-schools, almshouses, hospitals, established cha- 
rities of any kind, could be looked for ? All was to be 
created, and by whom ? The few older families fled, 
one after another, from the din and smoke of machinery 
and the elbowing of the newly rich, to calmer retreats. 
The master manufacturers, men for the most part of 
scanty, often of no education, narrow therefore in their 
views and frequently sordid, were slow in learning the 
claims of those whom they regarded chiefly as a part of 

s 3 



394 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



the apparatus employed in producing their wealth. This 
was to be expected ; and when it is considered that the 
periods of the greatest distress to the workmen were 
precisely those of difficulty and failure to themselves, 
from temporary obstruction of demand, it will be con- 
fessed that much destitution, physical and moral, was 
inevitable. 

By degrees, public opinion began to bear on this 
mighty mass of evil, and the eyes and hearts of men 
to open both to the claims of these lower classes, and 
to the frightful dangers of disregarding them ; but even 
then the efforts of benevolence were encountered among 
many obstacles, by one in particular, which there were 
no obvious means of overcoming. This was the whole- 
sale employment of children, almost infants, in various 
branches of manufacture, particularly in that vast one 
of cotton twist. To attempt to give instruction to these 
little victims would have been absurd, and even inhu- 
man. Not a moment could be spared from their too 
short hours of rest for any other purpose ; and by neces- 
sity they were left to grow up to the stature of human 
maturity with scarcely any other evidences of humanity 
about them. But has no remedy been sought or applied 
to this giant mischief ? What are all those long delibera- 
tions of Parliament which matured at length the Factory 
Law, but the most touching evidence of the parental 
care of the State over those who had no one else to care 
for them ? Under this law, the hours of working are 
strictly limited, and by its provisions the children will 
receive education — as far as it consists in giving the 
rudiments of literature. Those moral influences, which 
are indeed of infinitely more value, the State cannot 
give, or can give but very imperfectly. If parents be 
without all sense of their own duties, who can avert 
the dreadful consequences from their unfortunate off- 



TO DR. CHANNrS T G. 



395 



spring ? Besides their setting to their children exam- 
ples which too frequently counteract all the influence 
of the precepts of religion and virtue, it has been found 
in all parts of our country much less difficult to raise 
funds for the maintenance of schools, than to persuade 
parents to enforce the regular attendance of the pupils. 
Ignorance too gross to form any estimate of the value 
of what was rejected — false indulgence — but far more 
frequently a selfish reluctance to give up during school 
hours any profit or convenience derived from the labour 
of the child, have largely operated in counteraction of 
all plans of this nature. The case is the same, I per- 
ceive, with you. Three-fifths appear from the J ournal 
to be the highest average attendance on the schools of 
the Home Mission. In like manner church-building, 
the progress of which among us exceeds anything ever 
dreamt of by our ancestors, but yet perhaps no more 
than equal pace with the increase of our population, is 
often found easier to accomplish than church attend- 
ance. And do not your own ministers at large in effect 
confess a failure, when they broadly state that it is an 
error to suppose that their services are attended by the 
lowest class ? Either there will always remain at the 
bottom of society a sediment which will refuse to be 
incorporated with the clearer liquor, or at least it can 
be but very slowly and gradually taken up. Establish, 
either in our country or yours, a Prussian compulsion, 
drive the children to school, and all ages to church, by 
the terror of fine and imprisonment, and what will be 
gained to compensate the loss of that spirit of inde- 
pendence, which has probably been the most important 
element of all in the greatness and progress both of 
England and her noblest offspring ? Xo valuable end 
can be attained but by means of a congenial character, 
therefore not the diffusion of moral feeling and virtuous 



396 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



oonduct, or of devotion, by arbitrary force. Better a 
slow, better a partial progress, than one which, under 
the show of universality, is delusive, and must fail in 
the full trial. 

With regard to that visiting of the poor at their own 
houses, to which the agency of Dr. Tuckerman was at 
first confined, there is little reason to impute negligence 
to our middle and higher classes, whatever faults may 
often be found in their manner of performing the office. 
It had always been the practice of the better kind of 
country ladies to distribute benefactions among the cot- 
tagers, and often to carry, as well as to send them, aids 
in sickness. In towns of moderate size the same things 
were done ; but Hannah More, in her " Ccelebs," by 
representing her pattern yQung lady as regularly devot- 
ing two evenings in a week to making her rounds among 
the village poor, unfortunately made it a fashion and a 
rage. I say unfortunately, because nothing is ever done 
well and wisely which is taken up in this manner. J udi- 
cious people saw that it was neither an expedient, nor 
indeed a safe employment, for the inexperienced girls 
who undertook it. They objected that young ladies 
would be exposed to injury, both in temper and taste, 
by the quantity of vulgar and interested flattery and 
vulgar and spiteful gossip which would be forced upon 
them ; that their ears would continually be assailed by 
grossness of expression, and their minds either sullied 
or saddened by too close and unveiled a view of human 
vices in their coarsest forms. While we guarded them 
with unceasing solicitude against the approach of even 
doubtful society of their own class, it seemed strangely 
inconsistent to permit them to come into habitual con- 
tact with what was positively bad in a lower class. 

I have no doubt that these and other objections urged 
in the beginning were found to be just, to a certain 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



397 



extent. The impulse was given, however, and nothing 
could stop it. It acted at first chiefly within the Evan- 
gelical party ; but that party became, at length, great 
enough to give the tone to society at large; and the 
practice of thus superintending the poor has become so 
general, that I know no one circumstance by which the 
manners, studies and occupations of Englishwomen have 
been so extensively modified, or so strikingly contradis- 
tinguished from those of a former generation. By these 
female missionaries numberless experiments have been 
made and projects started. Some have addressed them- 
selves to the bodies of the poor, others to their souls, 
and there has been much quackery in both departments. 
Some have distributed Calvinistic tracts, others bread 
and soup tickets. Some have applied themselves to 
clothing the children, others to teaching them, others 
to reading to the sick and infirm. One of the results 
of this system, and which will not have your entire 
approbation, has been the formation of a prodigious 
number of associations for the accomplishment of ob- 
jects to which the efforts of single persons were unequal. 
Women in this country have seldom enough of habits 
of business, and especially of that habit of the world 
which enables men, by conciliation and compromise, to 
pursue their objects with almost any associates, to be 
good members of committees. I fear theirs are not 
always schools of forbearance or good manners ; but 
practice may improve them. It is a decided advantage 
that the new accession of zeal among the clergy has 
urged them to take almost entirely out of the hands 
of the ladies the theological department, in which their 
bitterest dissensions had of course occurred. 

Gocd and evil have arisen out of this great move- 
ment, as out of all others. The good I need not par- 
ticularize. It is enough to say that much aid, much 



398 TO DR. CHAINING. 



comfort, much, instruction of many kinds, and, it may 
be hoped, some improvement in decorum, in piety, and 
in morals generally, may have been effected. On the 
other hand, I think that it has given rise among the 
ladies to much spiritual pride and self-inflation ; much 
of an imperious, pragmatical, meddling habit, which has 
rendered many both odious to the poor, to whom they 
took credit for being the greatest of benefactresses, and 
troublesome and unamiable to their equals. It has di- 
verted the minds of numbers, not from dissipation only, 
but from literature, from the arts, from all the graces and 
amenities of polished life, and rendered many a home 
intolerable to husbands, fathers and brothers, thereby 
causing more moral mischief than all their exertions 
could eradicate among the poor. But the wise and the 
foolish, the gentle and the ungentle, will ever throw 
their own characters into all their occupations and pur- 
suits. With regard to the poor, the benefits they have 
derived have been counterbalanced by a vast increase 
among them of hypocrisy, and a disgusting cant of 
piety, assumed to flatter the ladies ; of fraud and im- 
posture generally, and of a fawning, dependent, servile 
spirit, unworthy of free men. Idleness and helplessness 
have, in many wealthy and vjell-visited neighbourhoods, 
become more profitable than activity and a manly resist- 
ance of the evils of life. Intemperance has been fos- 
tered among the men, by an assurance that if they did 
not provide necessaries for their families, the ladies 
would. 

I apprehend that more good, and certainly fewer evils, 
have attended the exertions of some excellent men who 
among us have followed in the footsteps of Dr. Tucker- 
man • they alone ought to attempt indiscriminate visit- 
ing of the lowest of the low in great and vicious cities. 
Ladies might act more usefully under their directions. 



TO DR. CHAXXDs'G. 



399 



I fear I must have wearied you by this long account; 
but I wished, besides refuting a most injurious imputa- 
tion on my own country, to make you acquainted with 
the results of our experience in attempts to benefit the 
poor, the ignorant and the vicious. Your country is 
still young in the arts of dealing with human misery on 
a great scale. The essential differences between an aris- 
tocratic and a democratic social system which penetrate 
into every part, must vary the working of every plan 
and modify every result ; but, after all. it is common 
human nature which is to be dealt with, and the great 
principles must be the same. 

You naturally wish that the increase of your city 
should not proceed, if it is to be followed by the moral 
evils which have accompanied, in all times and coun- 
tries, a si mil ar aggregation of men and dwellings. In 
vain ! — gregarious man will ever go on joining house to 
house, and street to street, and vice and misery will 
ever find abodes among them. But will not virtue dwell 
there also, and domestic happiness — warm hearts and 
enlightened minds \ Will there not be there, as every- 
where, more good than evil, more enjoyment than suf- 
fering ? There will ; for all is in His hands who loves 
the creatures He has made. This, after all, is the true 
balm for the wounded bosom of philanthropy, when, 
after many trials and much experience, she discovers 
how hard, a task it is to do even a little good — unal- 
loyed, how impracticable ! I will now release you. 
Believe me ever most sincerely yours, 

Lucy kwm. 



400 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



To Miss Aikin. 

July 10, 1841. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — And so yon are waking np at 
last to see yonr dangers from the Chnrch ! It has seemed 
to me that yonr sagacity has been at fanlt in this parti- 
cular. My deep interest in your country as the Euro- 
pean stronghold of freedom has often turned my thoughts 
to this subject. Perhaps I have given you my views of 
it partially. I will now do it more freely, but with the 
distrust which I have in my judgments on a distant 
country. I write immediately, because your letter has 
filled my mind with thoughts which may evaporate if 
not seized at once. In assigning the causes of the decline 
of Dissent, I should give a prominent place to Methodism. 
This from the beginning stood quite apart from Noncon- 
formity. Wesley leaned more to the Church, and gave 
that leaning to his disciples. The consequence was that 
the large body of the people absorbed by Methodism, 
among whom were some of the most pious, and who 
belonged properly to Dissent, were weaned from it. 
Methodism reaped largely in the field from which Non- 
conformity used to gather a harvest, and thus the latter 
was sensibly weakened. Methodism in another way 
harmed Dissent greatly. It awakened a kindred spirit 
within the Establishment. Methodism in the Church 
was regarded very suspiciously among High-churchmen, 
but it was destined to labour in their cause. It created 
within the Establishment the very preaching which de- 
vout people had sought among the Dissenters ; and of 
course the strong attraction of the Church, no longer 
counteracted, but aided by and joined with this, grew 
more and more irresistible. When "serious" clergymen 
and "serious" professors were found springing up and 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



401 



multiplying within the imposing edifices where the State 
worshipped, the reason for deserting them and congre- 
gating in obscure meeting-houses ceased ; and it ceased 
at a moment when from other causes the attachment to 
the meeting-house had declined. Thus Methodism has 
served the Church. 

Dissent has laboured under many difficulties. "With 
all its nobleness, it wanted from the beginning a broad 
foundation. It did not plant itself on grand, immutable 
principles. It did not commit itself fully to the cause 
of religious freedom. It was very willing that the Church 
should decree the Thirty-nine Articles and St. Athana- 
sius' Creed. It went beyond the Church in excommu- 
nicating for opinion. It quarrelled with the Church for 
decreeing rites and forms, and for not taking the shape 
which was presented in the New Testament. Of conse- 
quence — when, in the progress of intelligence, forms, 
rites, copes, surplices and outward arrangements, lost 
their importance — Nonconformity lost its dignity, be- 
cause less respectable in its own eyes and that of others. 
Its sphere was narrowed. Men found less to fight against 
in the Church. Meanwhile, Dissent did not rise to higher 
views of religious liberty. Within the last hundred years 
it has become even more intolerant than in the days of 
Watts and Doddridge. The Unitarians alone rise to the 
apprehension of spiritual freedom, and the unpopularity 
of their theology has been extended to their liberality. 
Thus Dissent, which in the days of Laud fought the 
battle of religious liberty, has in this more advanced 
age fallen away, and become a prop of spiritual tyranny. 
One sad effect you witness — the free minds in literature 
and among the common people do not take refuge in 
Dissent. Generally speaking, what is there to carry 
enlightened, independent men to the meeting-house ? 



402 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



What is there in Dissent to attract the strong master- 
spirits of the age ? The multitude, rising up indignantly 
against the Church, are rather driven into infidelity. 
Thus intolerance not only brings down punishment on 
itself, but dishonour on the sacred cause of religion. 

I must hasten to that which is the strength of the 
Church, and contributes to the decline of Dissent. I 
refer to the aristocratical spirit of your country. This 
is your master-evil, and one which you cannot fully 
comprehend, for you live and move in it all the time ; it 
is the air you breathe ; and, like all familiar things, fails 
to be distinctly recognized. It is very strong yet. An 
intelligent friend writes me, that the spirit of caste 
seems stronger than ever in England, that he sees no 
tendency to the fusion of people into one sympathizing 
community, that society seems to be more broken into 
distinct and mutually repulsive classes. Be this as it 
may, the higher ranks are worshipped among you, and 
they do, must, and will give all their weight to the Esta- 
blished Church ; so much so, that were the Church to 
cease to be formally established, it would lose little or 
nothing of its power. The higher classes are its pillars. 
But you will say, Have not these sustained it always as 
well as now, and w^hy then is Dissent more endangered 
now by this cause ? I answer, The middle classes, in 
which lay the strength of Dissent, have prospered, have 
grown rich and luxurious and aspiring, have caught the 
spirit of fashion, the desire to press upward, the passion 
for assimilation to those above them, and in this way 
have been brought more and more under the power of 
the upper classes in all concerns where opinion and 
fashion operate. The more the Dissenters have become 
" respectable," in the worldly sense, the weaker the spirit 
of Dissent. Even the Quakers have felt this influence, 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



403 



England needs now a new spirit of " Nonconformity," 
far deeper, nobler, more searching, than anything which 
has existed. Do I not see the sims of it ? 

Shall I name one more cause of the power of the 
Church ? 

At this moment there is everywhere a reaction in 
favour of authority — a very natural one, growing chiefly 
out of the anxiety of the moneyed interests. The middle 
classes, which favoured liberty by their growing wealth, 
begin now to fear the invasion of their wealth from those 
below, and are more willing to strike a league with those 
above. They grow fearful of free opinions in all depart- 
ments, and favour an Established Church as establishing 
everything else. All selfishness is shortsighted, or these 
men would see that their interest and duty and dignity 
all lie in one line, — i.e. in making common cause with 
the mass of their fellow-creatures, and sparing no efforts 
to lighten their burdens, and to elevate them intellec- 
tually, morally and socially. There can be no peace to 
the modern world till this truth is understood. A fire 
is kindled in the "lower classes," as they are called, 
which is smouldering when it seems quenched, which 
cannot die. How we ought to rejoice to lift up our de- 
pressed brethren ! But no ; we hate and fear them the 
more because they have caught the idea of some better, 
higher lot. We strengthen State authorities, Church 
authorities, to keep them down. We make religion hateful 
to them by using it for their subjugation. But all in 
vain. The revolution, which we might make a pure 
blessing, will come in storm, if in no other way, and will 
punish terribly and justly those who choose to keep 
their brethren in the dust. 

You see what a long letter you have called out. Your 
notice of the Church produced a rush of thought which 
I have poured out as rapidly almost as it came. The 



404 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



question is, Am I right ? I feel more and more how at 
a distance we err about other countries. I think much 
about England and France, and less about my own coun- 
try, because this is secure. We have nothing to fear 
here. Our moneyed interest, which you alone hear in En- 
gland, is given to croaking, but among the people there 
is no alarm. We may, do, and should, suffer from our 
passions and follies, but the two great free countries of 
Europe have serious difficulties. Still I hope much for 
them. The mass of the people, who have my chief sym- 
pathy, are struggling into light in your country, and this 
makes all sure in the end. I can add nothing on the 
other topics of your letter. 

Very truly your friend, 

Wm. E. Chaining. 



To Dr. Chaining. 

Hampstead, August 6, 1841. 

My dear Eriend, — It delights me to think how far 
our correspondence is from languishing. I trust you 
have ere now received a long letter from me, occasioned 
by your Home Mission Eeport, and I yesterday was 
gratified by your letter on our Church. I answer it 
while fresh in my mind. I am not able to say whether 
Methodism, meaning strictly the sect founded by Wes- 
ley and that division of it which followed Whitfield, 
has been injurious to Dissent or not. I believe the 
converts were chiefly either members of the Establish- 
ment, or pei^ons who had previously known nothing or 
cared nothing for religion in any shape. It seems as 
if the spread of the evangelical spirit in the Church 
had checked in some degree that of Methodism, which 
scarcely, I think, keeps up its proportion to the popu- 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



405 



lation. But when I lamented the decline of Dissent, 
I had in my mind that of Presbyterianism chiefly — 
that is, of the only sect which could boast of learned 
ministers, and which once included in its bosom a very 
considerable body of wealthy and well-educated and 
enlightened families. 

As for the other old denominations, the Independents 
and the Baptists, they are by no means declining in 
numbers. Formerly their congregations were seldom 
found but in towns and among the trading classes, but 
I am now told that there is scarcely a rural village 
throughout the country in which either they or the 
Methodists, under some of their subdivisions, have not 
some humble place of worship. They reckon, I believe, 
by hundreds of thousands. But in this aristocratic 
country, as you truly call it, numbers alone stand for 
little or nothing. These Dissenters have no political 
power or weight whatever, as their ministers have con- 
fessed or complained. They have not even a single 
member of Parliament belonging to them, while the 
little Unitarian aristocracy has about fifteen. Their 
opinions are, I believe, Calvinistic to a high degree, and 
it is only as persons asserting practically the right of 
private judgment in religion, that it is possible to prefer 
them to the members of the Establishment. I know 
not at all what their political bent may be : this only 
we may rely on, that any administration which should 
strongly favour the Church would be certain of their 
enmity — a consideration which may come to be worth 
the attention of Sir Eobert Peel. At periods of crisis 
every right aim tells. The Church-rate question has 
served in very many parishes throughout England as a 
muster-roll of the rated householders, and in a majority, 
I think, of these, the dissidents altogether have carried 
it against Mother Church. Observe that rating, i.e. to 



406 



TO DE. CHAINING. 



the poor, goes lower than the elective franchise, at least 
comprises much greater numbers. It may a little illus- 
trate this matter to you if I mention that full half the 
maid-servants I have had were either some kind of 
Methodists or regular Dissenters ; and I believe this 
to be general. You see from this, that there is no appa- 
rent tendency to what you would call pure Christianity 
in our lower classes — except, indeed, that among the 
Baptists there are, or were, some Unitarians. The sect 
of Socialists, the growth of which seems connected or 
coincident with that of Chartism, is not a Christian 
sect, it seems, but a Deistic one, which has exposed 
itself to just disgrace by condemning the institution of 
marriage. I know not at all to what extent it has spread, 
or whether it still increases. The public at large scarcely 
know it but through the invectives of the Bishop of 
Exeter in the House of Lords, in which there is pro- 
bably both exaggeration and misrepresentation. Still I 
have heard, apparently on good authority, that there is 
scarcely a town in England without a Socialist congre- 
gation — an ugly fact, if it be one. A comparison of the 
religious state of our country now and a hundred years 
ago, will not, I conceive, support your theory of the 
progress of mankind. Then we had Low-church prin- 
ciples in the Establishment ; the Dissenters learned, 
respected and steady; the Deists, what there were of 
them, learned also, moral, and too prudent to promulgate 
their opinions among the vulgar. 

No ; I cannot go all the length you have done in your 
late address, though I admire it very much, and cor- 
dially thank you for it ; and if it be an exact delineation 
of the "present state of opinion with you, especially of 
the tolerant, rather the enlarged, enlightened state of 
Christian feeling, I must say that we might take a lesson 
from you with great advantage. But I have often wished 



TO DR. CHAIsXIXG. 



407 



to ask you on what special ground you fix your confi- 
dence in the constant progress of the race ? You reckon 
much, I know, on the influences of Christianity ; but in 
this there is nothing new ; and why should this power 
over the human heart be continually augmenting ? If 
the world could be considered as an individual, we might 
readily suppose it a design of Providence that all its 
experiences of every kind should be tending to increase 
its knowledge and improve its virtue. But when two 
things remain always the same — the nature of God and 
the nature of man — when every human creature is born 
into the world with the same ignorance, and, what is 
more, with the same appetites and passions, as his ear- 
liest and rudest progenitors — when the necessity for the 
existence of evil, whatever may make that necessity, 
cannot be supposed likely to cease — can we reasonably 
expect more, than that in some countries the progress 
of the arts of life may redress some outward inconveni- 
ences, and obtain for a portion of society some outward 
comforts and luxuries, and that great crimes of violence 
may become more rare, and vice in the higher classes 
less gross ? Men may grow more skilful in adapting 
means to ends, but may we hope that their ends will 
be wiser or better ? The very diffusion of knowledge 
may prove little more than the beating out of the ingot 
into gold-leaf. In this country at least, literature in its 
higher sense is certainly not advancing ; books must 
be made so rapidly, that even industry, labour, cannot 
be bestowed on the manufacture. For the interests of 
good taste and the effectual cultivation of the mind, it- 
would be far better if we had not above one-tenth of 
the new books that are published ; and so in science, 
the sciolists may amuse themselves, but assuredly they 
do nothing for the advance of any branch of study. 
Your new people may be making progress, and I 



408 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



hope they are ; but in these old countries population 
increases upon us so frightfully, that it will be very 
well indeed if in any respect we can hold our own. 
Such are my more gloomy speculations ; but it is im- 
possible to concur more entirely than I do in what you 
point out as the improvement to be made of the pre- 
sent state and tendencies of society, or in the warnings 
which you think required. 

No more will I add at present. I doubt if you will 
thank me for so much on the discouraging side. But 
you seek the truth, and it should be told you. 

Ever most sincerely yours, 

Lucy Aikik 



To Miss Aikin, 

Boston, December 15, 1841. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Thanks for your two unanswered 
letters — unanswered so long, not for want of will, but 
strength. I have been ill, a prisoner to my chamber for 
a month, and I am still so exhausted after six weeks' 
release from my chamber, that I take but short walks, 
and find even letter- writing wearisome. I can give you 
but a few lines, for I began this morning with a letter 
to Mrs. Baillie, which grew under my hands, and I have 
not much power left for other correspondents. Had you 
come first, I should have treated you more generously. 

Your letter, giving an account of the interest taken 
in the education of the poorer classes by those above 
them, opens too great a field for me now ; and I must 
say the same of your remarks on my faith in social pro- 
gress. How little of our minds we can crowd into a few 
pages, even when we have most command of thought 
and utterance ! I owe you a pleasure which I ought to 



TO MISS ATKIN. 



409 



acknowledge. I had postponed the reading of Milman's 
" History of Christianity," as I do of many good books, 
but your favourable mention of it determined me to take 
it in hand ; and as soon as I began to convalesce after 
my late illness, I applied myself to the pleasant task. 
Sometimes, indeed, my weak head was strained to take 
in his long, complicated sentences, and I wished that he 
had added the charm of a simple style to his other 
merits, but I was too much interested to be discouraged. 
I have been truly delighted as well as instructed by the 
work. What amazes me is, that it should have come 
from the hands of an Episcopalian clergyman. Am I 
wrong in seeing in it true moral courage ? Are there 
many in that Church to sympathize with such large, 
liberal views ? To me, that Church seems at the moment 
very much fallen ; indeed, never so degraded before. In 
the days of her Butlers, Berkeleys, Sheiiocks, &c, she 
wanted life and efficacy ; but there was something vene- 
rable in her grave, calm, large wisdom. Now, Method- 
ism and Oxfordism have brought her low indeed. 

If I did not respect your sex as highly as I do, I should 
say that this Church is passing through the stage of 
" old-womanism;" but I have seen and revered so many 
excellent old ladies, that my conscience and, I may add, 
my heart will not allow me to use this unfeeling phrase. 
I may say that the Church seems falling into spiritual 
dotage. Her chief faculty is memory of the old, and of 
much which is best forgotten. To wipe the dust from 
old customs, old costumes, old phrases — to revive decayed 
authority, and substitute these for fresh, living thought 
— such seems to be her task. To be sure, she has zeal, 
but it is of a shrewish cast, and manifests itself very 
much in scolding and denouncing such as will not come 
under her rod. The Methodistic element is incomparably 
more respectable than the High-church element, and it 

T 



410 



TO MISS AIEIK 



seems as if the latter were getting the predominance in 
your Church. 

It is truly comforting to find so free and generous a 
spirit as Milman's in such a community. He makes me 
doubt whether my view of the Church may not be exag- 
gerated — whether she may not have more youthful blood 
in her veins than I had supposed. I may seem to speak 
sportively, but it affects me that the true grandeur of 
Christianity should be so overlooked by great communi- 
ties bearing the Christian name. 

During my convalescence, I read a considerable part 
of Miss Mitford's " Village/' perhaps for the third time. 
Her short sketches, overflowing with life and beauty, 
refresh me when I am too weak for long stories, and she 
has often been a cheering friend in my sick room. My 
children also read to me " Charles O'Malley," a book full 
of action and graphical power ; the work of a fresh, ever- 
observant and inventive mind, not going far into human 
nature, but giving the surface of life very vividly; a 
book to intoxicate adventurous, daring young men, by 
sketches of war, in its strange mixture of gay con- 
viviality, recklessness and bloodshed. I read such books 
with much interest, as they give me human experiences 
in strong and strange contrast with my own, and help 
my insight into that mysterious thing, the human soul. 

I could tell you more of my amusements, but can only 
add, that I am very faithfully your friend, 

W. E. Changing. 

P. 8. You ask about my " great work." I beg you not 
to use the phrase again. I have nothing great about 
me but the undeveloped within. My wish is to throw 
in a little light on some great problems relating to human 
nature — and, I may say, the divine — by giving my views 
in connection with metaphysics, ethics, politics and theo- 



TO DE. CHAXXIXG. 



411 



logy. I hope to escape a large work, for my aim is to 
give only ray own views, the fruits of my own thinking. 
I am a little discouraged, for the winter is gone, and I 
have brought very little to pass. How do you go on ? 
I want you to write a free, courageous hook, not to stand 
in awe of critics. Speak out in your own strong style. 



To De. Chaxxixg. 

Hampstead, January 10, IS 42. 

My dear Friend, — It grieves me much to find that 
illness was the cause of that long silence which I had 
been wondering at and lamenting. This cause did not 
suggest itself to me, because I had received from you a 
sermon delivered far from your home, and, as I thought, 
recently, which certainly bore no marks of feebleness. 
This, I think, is almost all I shall say to you about it, 
for a good reason — that I know nothing of the subject. 
Tour discourse goes entirely on the ground of religion 
being a social, an uniting principle ; and such indeed I 
know it- to be usually. To me, however, it has never 
been so ; on the contrary, I have always felt it as a 
matter more strictly personal than any other ; and the 
very last office I could bear to commit to any human 
being would be that of speaking to my Maker for me, 
or in my name. I mention this only as what is, not 
what ought to be : at least it is a matter in which 
every one must do as suits best with his temper and 
circumstances. I can imagine that if it had ever been 
my fortune in youth to attend upon any minister who 
could either have satisfied my judgment or moved my 
heart, I too might have known devotion as a bond of 
friendship, a social pleasure. Your charity is very large, 
and certainly no man ever had less of the priest 



412 



TO DK. CHAXXIXG-. 



I am glad 1117 mention of it led you to read Milman's 
work ; and I made him very happy two days since by 
telling him that he had cheered your convalescence. 
It was very many years since we had met before, and 
that but once, yet we had each a strong remembrance 
of the other, and met like friends. I found him cheer- 
ful, animated, quite without pomp or pretension, and 
full of agreeable conversation. I agree with you, how- 
ever, that his style in writing is by no means so easy or 
simple. His close study of Gibbon seems to have in- 
jured him in this point. There is no writer whose faults 
are more infectious than Gibbon's — condemn them as 
you will, you cannot contemplate them long without a 
strange propensity to repeat them. In fact, though cer- 
tainly faults, they are seldom gratuitous ones. Most of 
his ambiguities prove, on examination, devices to com- 
prise much matter in few words : this is seldom the case 
with those of his imitators. You ask if our Church has 
many Milnians. Very few, I conceive ; and the clergy 
are so far from being proud of his learned and coura- 
geous work, that they and their reviews have preserved 
a studied silence respecting it I know not which way 
Mother Church is setting her face. Oxford, indeed, casts 
a longing eye towards Eome, but with the powerful 
evangelical anti-Popery party to watch her, she durst 
not what she would. Then Scotland is almost in a 
flame on the old ground of the superiority of the Church 
authorities to the civil power and the laws of the land. 
In that country the Sabbatarian fanaticism burns still 
fiercer than among our Evangelicals. What think you 
of a provincial presbytery's excommunicating a man 
and his wife also for burying their child on the Sunday 
— the general custom here, at least with the working 
classes ? I fear indeed we grow no wiser. 

How far, I wonder, have I brought down my own 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



413 



small particular story in my letters to you ? I doubt 
if I have told you that I went, in the middle of Sep- 
tember, to that deserted seat of fashion and gaiety, 
Bath. The railroad brought the journey within my 
strength, and I had the reward of my effort by leaving 
in those warm waters a very troublesome gouty affec- 
tion, which had kept me long in a state of suffering and 
languor. Since my return I have been labouring upon 
Addison with vigour, and am not quite without hope of 
bringing it out before the end of our London spring, last- 
ing till August. Mr. Hallam says it is time the public 
should be put in mind of him, for we have had no such 
writer since, and I find the same is the faith of all our high 
literati. One thing strikes me as quite unique in him. 
He was a great reformer of manners, yet never drew 
upon him the anger either of the high or the low — he 
improved mankind, and they did not persecute him. But 
perhaps I say wrongly mankind. His chief aim was to 
improve womankind, as the first step to amending society, 
and we were so good and so docile as to thank him even 
when he took the liberty of laughing at us. Had he 

begun with you ■ 

Pray, had your Miss Sedgwick the like benevolent 
design in all the elaborate disparagement that she be- 
stows on the outsides and insides of us unhappy women 
of England, with our Queen at our head ? The hardest 
morsel is her choosing to record, and thus to sanction, 
the sentence of one of the girls of her party, that a 
woman gentle and lovely could not be an Englishwoman. 
Such stuff is not worth talking about, but American 
women visiting England will certainly be sufferers by 
these demonstrations of national hatred. Your niece 
did not look like a hater : I should be glad to be remem- 
bered to her. 

You and I have our own private treaty of amity, 

t2 



414 



TO DR. CHANGING. 



but this slave- trading is likely, I fear, to make ill-blood 
between our governments. 

I have been lately led to think of one of the greatest 
differences between education among us now and half a 
century ago — consisting in the introduction of German 
literature. The study of this language is now become 
so nearly universal in good society, that twenty years 
hence young people will be saying with wonder, " I do 
really suspect that neither that old Mr. Such-a-one nor 
his wife know German." Just as we used to say of some 
of our elders regarding French. I have made some young 
people stare by telling them that, in my childhood, 
Mr. William Taylor, of Norwich, whose translation of 
Burger's Leonora was the spark which fired the muse of 
Scott, was quite as much wondered at for knowing Ger- 
man, as a person would noAv be for a profound acquaint- 
ance with Euss. What are to be the effects of this new 
ingredient on the flavour of our lighter literature, I 
cannot clearly perceive ; certainly, if Carlyle be made 
the example of its influence on taste and style, nothing 
can be fancied more detestable. Mrs. Austin, on the 
contrary, is able to render a vast variety of German 
styles all into pure and flowing English, preserving at 
the same time something quite foreign in the subject- 
matter and turn of thought. There seems to be some- 
thing more profoundly sentimental — more cordially 
affectionate — in the expressions of the Germans than 
is the tone with us, and all our travellers hold their 
demonstrations to be sincere and trustworthy. On this 
account we certainly love them better than any other 
foreign people (it is to be considered that we have no 
national rivalries with them); yet a want of polish, 
tact, refinement, is remarked, which often gives a tinge 
of burlesque both to their sublime and pathetic. Mr. 
Taylor has somewhere said that " there is a too-muchness 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



415 



in almost all German writers/' It seems as if the light- 
ness of touch and perfection of taste of a Voltaire were 
gifts denied to their national mind. In one study their 
writers show a quite original spirit, comb ined with their 
well-known laboriousness — that of biblical criticism ; 
and it is in this that I apprehend they are producing 
the strongest effects on other nations. Their most start- 
ling paradoxes seem to have found a welcome among 
your divines, and they certainly have not been univer- 
sally rejected here. At our universities, " German Theo- 
logy " is a word of fear and reproach ; but those who, 
like Milman, would dive into Christian antiquities, well 
know that their main reliance must be on the guidance 
of German doiun-diggers. Are they destined once more 
to produce a revolution in religion ? Will new blood be 
poured into the old churches of Christendom from their 
veins ? Alas ! neither of us can expect to live long 
enough to see these questions solved by the event. How 
I long sometimes to peep into the yet unopened leaves 
of the book of fate, to read the destinies of nations in 
their moral relations ! It is not the doom of dynasties 
that I would learn. 

We have nothing new in literature, and in politics we 
are mutely awaiting the meeting of the new ministry's 
new Parliament. The grand trials of strength will be on 
the corn-laws and protective duties — momentous ques- 
tions, no doubt, but on which, if all who are unqualified 
to judge would be silent, there could be no popular cry. 
Every year there is more or less of distress in our manu- 
facturing towns, because such are the productive powers 
of our gigantic machinery, that every year some markets 
are overstocked, and the mill-owners are obliged to hold 
their hands. But this simple explanation never satisfies 
the sufferers ; false or partial causes are sought out : it 
is now the fault of your banking system, now of our 



416 



TO DR. CHAINING. 



own. Once it was the decrees of Bonaparte ; now it is 
our corn-laws. All Europe seems to be over-peopled, and 
the wages and condition of the working classes sink in 
consequence — sink without help or hope of restoration. 
Sad truths, which in your new country you will know 
nothing of for many ages. Our magnificent colonies afford 
us, indeed, considerable relief; and I cannot repress some 
swellings of national pride, as I spread before me the 
map of the world and realize it to myself, that the British 
empire is the widest ever known to history. It is a 
proud feeling to dismiss an English MS. to the press, 
and think in how many zones and regions your thoughts 
will be read — the more reason they should be worthy 
and noble ones. 

I must not spare more time from my Addison, even 
to chat with you, but I could not bear to let your last 
lie a day longer unacknowledged. I grieve that you have 
been so long a sufferer, and shall be very anxious to hear 
that your strength returns completely. Be not too im- 
patient to resume your literary labours, notwithstanding 
our impatience for the work you have in preparation. 
It is in vain to urge, while the body refuses to second 
the eagerness of the mind. I now feel that a week of 
the application of health performs more than months of 
languor. Do you recollect Mrs. Carter's pretty dialogue 
in verse between Body and Soul, and their mutual re- 
proaches ? I always thought poor Body was the ill-used 
party. 

Adieu. May all good attend you ! 

Ever your sincere friend, 

Lucy Aikin. 



TO MISS AIKI3T. 



417 



To Miss Aikin. 

June 12, 1842. 

My dear Miss Aikin, — Tour letter of January 10th 
has been by me a long time unanswered, but you will 
not misinterpret my silence. I have done to you as to 
others. I had a pressure of engagements in the winter, 
with no great strength to meet them. Three months 
ago I left my home to find an earlier and milder spring 
in the middle States, and began too early to travel in 
Pennsylvania. There I had a renewal of the disease 
from which I suffered towards the end of the autumn — 
inflammation of the lungs, and passed through an illness 
in an inn, confined to my bed a week or more, and about 
three weeks to my chamber. Having lived in a most 
comfortable home, I should have looked forward to sick- 
ness under such circumstances with not much pleasure ; 
but I learned that I could dispense with many customary 
indulgences, and on the whole recovered as fast as if I 
had been under my own roof. Happily, I was imprisoned 
in the beautiful valley of Wyoming, to which Campbell 
has given a European reputation ; and as soon as I could 
bear a strong light, I seated myself at the window, 
beneath which flowed the Sasquehannah, and beyond 
swelled the gentle hills or mountains, with forests at 
their summits and the freshest verdure of cultivation 
below. All manner of fine things have been said about 
Xature ; but I do not know that she has been called a 
physician or found a place in the Materia Meclica, but I 
can testify to her healing virtues. Love within doors 
and beauty without divided with the doctor the credit 
of my recovery. Were I to set up for physician, I should 
give myself to the study of the influence of mental and 
spiritual agents on disease. Who knows but that I should 



418 



TO MISS AIKIN. 



do much to banish the odious drugs which so often inflict 
worse diseases or pains than they cure ! We have some 
religious physicians who pray occasionally with their 
patients, and I suspect the prayer often does more good 
than the medicine. The diseases of civilization are ner- 
vous to a great degree, — the very ones to be reached by 
spiritual agencies. 

For many years past I have spent my summers in 
the most beautiful island of our country, Ehode Island. 
This summer I have determined to try inland air, and 
have retreated to the mountainous district of Massachu- 
setts, where I am to settle which I enjoy most, moun- 
tains or my dear native ocean. One of my great pleasures 
is that my friend Miss Sedgwick lives a door or two from 
me. I wish you could see her in her family, almost 
worshipped, not for her genius, but her loveliness of 
character, and shedding blessed influences through per- 
haps the most united family I have ever known, and I 
am sure you would forgive her severe remarks on En- 
glish women. I do not know what these are but through 
your letter ; for so little relish have I for travels, espe- 
cially for journals, that I do not hold myself bound to 
read them, even from the pens of .my dearest friends. 
Let me say, however, that there are extenuations of 
Miss S/s offence which you can hardly understand. Na- 
tional tastes are formed very much by circumstances, 
and our taste is educated under influences which unfit 
us for an impartial estimate of English women. You 
know, I suppose, that we have much more beauty in our 
country than there is in yours, and this beauty differs 
much in character. One of your intelligent countrymen 
said to me recently, " The beauty of American women 
is more sylph-like; that of English women, stronger, 
more masculine/' And so it is. Hardly anything can 
exceed the delicacy and loveliness of our young women. 



TO MISS AIKIX 



419 



The sight of them is one of my pleasures as I walk in 
the streets. Unhappily, these sweet flowers are very 
frail. "Whether from climate or wrong modes of living, 
or from the burden of toil which motherhood in this 
country lays on your sex, our young women fade at an 
early age. Still the character of their beauty at the age 
when woman acts most on the heart has great influence 
on our taste, and in some degree injures it. Our distin- 
guished painter Mr. Allston has sometimes been blamed 
here for giving so much embonpoint to his women, and 
for giving them feet and ancles stout enough to stand 
on. We incline somewhat to the Chinese taste. JSTow 
it is not strange that the English woman does not satisfy 
us. She has more embonpoint, a stouter frame, more 
pronounced features, stronger manners, gestures, move- 
ments. She has a more elastic step, but takes strides, 
as we say. She seems less feminine, less refined. She, 
too, has somewhat freer manners. She talks on subjects 
which would call up the colour in an American woman's 
cheeks. Strange that a colony, sent from England into 
a wilderness and a bleaker climate, should arrive at the 
distinction which I have stated ! The nervous tempera- 
ment predominates here more than in England, I believe, 
and may explain some of our peculiarities, though in 
itself a strange thing. Southey has said we are growing 
into Indians, and yet the Indian has no nerves. He 
does not know what consumption is, and we most of us 
die of it, and suffer much from nervous fever. This 
constitution of ours gives us some signal advantages, on 
which I should like to dwell in another letter. It pro- 
mises us perhaps superiority in the fine arts, as well as 
in person and manners. One of your very keen-eyed 
countrywomen observed that the profiles of the American 
gentlemen were of a higher order than yours. But I 
have a great deal to say on the point, and have given 



420 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



you now as much as an English lady can take in at once. 
I have shown you my confidence in your patience and 
kind feelings. 

Very truly your friend, 

Wm. E. Channing. 

I rejoice to learn from Mrs. Baillie that you are going 
on bravely with your Addison, and promise myself a 
great deal of pleasure from it. 



To Dr. Channing. 

Hampstead, August 9, 1842. 

My dear Friend, — It grieves me to learn that illness 
has been the cause of your long silence ; but it is past, I 
hope, and if your summer be bright and balmy like ours, 
it will give you strength to support the rigours of the 
coming winter. But 0 that you would come to recruit 
in our milder climate ! We should then soon exorcise 
that strange phantom of a petticoated man which your 
imagination has conjured up during your illness, and 
some demon has whispered you to call an Englishwoman. 
I am well persuaded that you could have formed no such 
notion of us when you were here, although I believe 
you then saw but little society, and that of an inferior 
kind. 

As to the very delicate subject of comparative beauty, 
our travellers attest that you have many very pretty 
girls ; so have we : and even Miss Sedgwick pronounces 
that " the Englishwoman is magnificent from twenty to 
five-and-forty." We are satisfied ; so let it rest. 

With respect to our step, or stride, as you say, I have 
a little history to give you. Down to five-and-forty or 



TO DR. CHANXIXG. 



421 



fifty years ago, our ladies, tight-laced and " propped on 
French heels/' had a short mincing step, pinched figures, 
pale faces, weak nerves, much affectation, a delicate help- 
lessness and miserable health. Physicians prescribed 
exercise, but to little purpose. Then came that event 
which is the beginning or end of everything — the French 
Revolution. The Parisian women, amongst other re- 
straints, salutary or the contrary, emancipated themselves 
from their stays, and kicked off their petite talons. We 
followed the example, and, by way of improving upon 
it, learned to march of the drill-sergeant, mounted boots, 
and bid defiance to dirt and foul weather. We have now 
well-developed figures, blooming cheeks, active habits, 
firm nerves, natural and easy manners, a scorn of affecta- 
tion, and vigorous constitutions. If your fair daughters 
would also learn to step out, their bloom would be less 
transient, and fewer would fill untimely graves. I admit, 
indeed, some unnecessary inelegance in the step of our 
pedestrian fair ones ; but this does not extend to ladies 
of quality, or real gentlewomen, who take the air chiefly 
in carriages or on horseback. They walk with the same 
quiet grace that pervades all their deportment, and to 
which you have seen nothing similar or comparable. 
When you mention our " stronger gestures," I know not 
what you mean. All Europe declares that we have no 
gesture. Madame de Stael ridiculed us as mere pieces 
of still-life; and of untravelied gentlewomen this is 
certainly true in general. All governesses proscribe it. 
Where it exists, it arises from personal character. I 
have seen it engaging when the offspring of a lively 
imagination and warm feelings, repulsive when the result 
of a keen temper or dictatorial assumption. Again, your 
charge of want of delicacy I cannot understand. The 
women of every other European nation charge us with 
prudery, and I really cannot conceive of a human being 

u 



422 



TO DR. C HANKING. 



more unassailable by just reproach on this head than a 
well-conducted Englishwoman. We have, indeed, heard 
some whimsical stories of American damsels who would 
not for the world speak of the leg even of a table, or the 
hack even of a chair ; and I do confess that we are not 
delicate or indelicate to this point. But if you mean to 
allude to the enormities of Frances Wright, or even to 

some of the discussions of — — I can only answer, 

we blush too. Be pleased to consider that you have yet 
seen in your country none of our ladies of high rank ; 
and few of your people, excepting diplomatic characters, 
have had more than very transient glimpses of them 
here, while we have had the heads of your society with 
us. Now I must frankly tell you, in reference to your 
very unexpected claim for your countrywomen of supe- 
rior refinement, that although I have seen several of them 
whose manners were too quiet and retiring to give the 
least offence, I have neither seen nor heard of any who, 
even in the society of our middle classes, were thought 
entitled to more than this negative commendation — any 
who have become prominent without betraying gross 
ignorance of more than conventional good-breeding. The 
very tone of voice, the accent and the choice of phrase, 
give us the impression of extreme inelegance. Patriot 
and stanch republican as you are, I think you must 
admit the a-priori probability that the metropolis of the 
British Empire, the first city in the world for size, for 
opulence, for diffusion of the comforts, accommodations 
and luxuries of life, as well as for all the appliances of 
science, literature and taste — -the seat of a court unex- 
celled in splendour, and of an aristocracy absolutely un- 
rivalled in wealth, in substantial power and dignity, and 
especially in mental cultivation of the most solid and 
most elegant kind — would afford such a standard of 
graceful and finished manners as your State capitals can 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



423 



have no chance of coming up to. Further : it has been 
most truly observed that in every country it is the 
mothers "who give the tone both to morals and manners ; 
but with you the mothers are by your own account the 
toilers. Oppressed with the cares of house and children, 
they either retire from society into the bosom of their 
family, or leave at least the active and prominent parts 
in it to mere girls : and can you suppose that the art 
and science of good-breeding, for such it is, will be likely 
to advance towards perfection when all who have attained 
such proficiency as experience can give resign the sway 
to giddy novices ? With us it is quite different. Young 
ladies do not come out till eighteen, and then their part 
is a very subordinate one. It is the matron who does 
the honours of her house and supports conversation; 
and her daughters pay their visits beneath her wing. 
Under wholesome restraint like this, the young best learn 
self-government. " Sir/' said Dr. Parr, when provoked 
by the ill-manners of a rich man who had been a spoiled 
child, " it is discipline that makes the scholar, discipline 
that makes the gentleman, and it is the want of disci- 
pline that makes you what you are." 

One of your young women showed her taste and 
breeding by asking an English lady if she had seen 
"Victoria;" and I must mention that Miss Sedgwick 
has thought proper to describe the first and greatest lady 
in the world as " a plain little body,'' adding, " ordinary 
is the word for her." It was no woman luckily, but 
your Mr. D., who had the superlative conceit and im- 
pertinence to express his surprise to a friend of mine at 
finding so much good society in London. Now I think 
I have given you enough for one letter. 

Let me thank you very gratefully for your " Duty of 
the Free States." We ought all to be grateful to you 
as one of the most earnest and powerful pleaders for 



424 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



peace between our two countries. I trust there is now 
good hope of the settlement of all our disputes. But 
your man-owners may as well give up all hope of our 
lending our hands to the recovery of their chattels ; 
we shall go to war sooner, I can tell them. Your piece 
gave me much new information respecting the obliga- 
tions of the free states in connection with slavery ; they 
are more onerous than I thought. You must carry your 
point as to the district of Columbia at all risks, and I 
apprehend you will do so as soon as your people can be 
brought earnestly to will it — a state of public feeling 
which seems to be advancing. After our victory over 
slave-trade and slavery, no good cause is ever to be 
despaired of, not even although many of its champions 
may show themselves rash, uncharitable, violent. Eeason, 
justice and humanity, must condescend to own that they 
need the service of the passions to lead the forlorn hope 
in their holiest crusades. Your lively delineations of the 
Southerns and the Northerns struck me very forcibly. 
The contrast is just what we should draw between 
English and Irish. Difference of climate may in great 
degree account for this in your case, but it can have no 
part in ours. We should ascribe it to difference of race, 
had not the original English settlers in Ireland grown 
into such a likeness of the old Celtic stock. Nothing 
more inscrutable than the causes of national character. 
Climate certainly modifies the original type. Thus the 
picture which you draw of American women in your 
letter bore much resemblance, I thought, to the Creoles 
of our islands. But surely the same character cannot 
apply to the women of both North and South any 
more than to the men; for, independently of all other 
causes, the presence or absence of domestic slaves must 
modify every detail of domestic, and of course of femi- 
nine, life. 



TO DR. C HANKING. 425 



We have a new book which, if it fall in your way, 
w T ill surely interest you. It is the " Life of Oliver Hey- 
wood," composed chiefly from his own journals by the 
Rev. Joseph Hunter. He was one of the two thousand 
ejected Presbyterian ministers of Charles II/s time. 
After he was silenced, so far from holding his tongue, 
he passed the rest of his life, more than thirty years, in 
assiduous, almost incessant preaching, as a kind of mis- 
sionary. His sphere of action was the wild mountainous 
tract along the borders of Lancashire and the West 
Eiding of Yorkshire, then thinly sprinkled with pas- 
toral villages, small towns engaged in woollen manu- 
facture, and seats of rustic gentry — now a region of 
factories and steam-engines, mostly deserted by its here- 
ditary gentry, but swarming with population. Oliver 
Heywood founded many congregations, and was indeed 
one of the chief fathers of Protestant Dissent in all that 
country; it was a productive soil, and the seed sown 
by him has brought forth abundantly. The wealthy 
descendants of the poor and rude people whom he pene- 
trated with his own profound sense of practical religion, 
his own stern hostility to the claims of jpower in the 
concerns of conscience, and his defiance, his scorn of 
persecution, have not yet quite lost the spirit of their 
forefathers, although they have mitigated their gloomy 
austerity and Calvinistic faith. Many of them are at 
this time the zealous and liberal supporters of the 
Unitarian congregations in Bolton, Manchester, Leeds, 
Halifax, &c. The picture of manners is very striking. I 
doubt if anything has been published which brings so 
close those rigid men w^hose lives might be called one 
long religious service — with whom to fast and pray 
appeared the great ends for which mankind were created. 
The intensity of their bigotry was frightful, and it was 
chiefly exerted against their brother sectaries. When 



426 



TO DR. CHANNING. 



they are themselves under persecution, one is disposed 
to respect and admire them ; but yet it is impossible to 
forget that they are quite ready to do as much, and 
more also, to all who differ from them if ever their own 
turn should come round again. You must see the book. 
I will try to beg you a copy of my friend James Hey- 
wood, one of two wealthy and most worthy brothers, at 
whose desire and cost this life of their ancient kinsman 
has been written. Mr. Hunter is in every part thorough 
master of his subject, and his own portion is full of 
curious and valuable matter. 

This reminds me of your Mr. Savage, with whom I 
had an interesting conference, The spirit of " Old Mor- 
tality " seems to have migrated into his form. There is 
something in what Carlyle keeps repeating about real 
men, earnest men. It is they alone who stamp their 
image into coming ages. They ! I should have said you. 

My " Addison/' a theme on which there is no room 
for anything very earnest, though I am real as far as I 
go, proceeds at a very leisurely pace, but I hope to 
be ready for the next book season. I have been for- 
tunate in obtaining much new matter, especially some 
very agreeable unpublished letters from the lineal repre- 
sentative of his executor, Tickell. 

Ever your sincere friend, 

Lucy Aikin. 



Dr. Channing, bom 7th April, 1780, died on the 2nd 
October, 1842. Miss Aikin, who was born 6th Novem- 
ber, 1781, survived till the 29th January, 1864. 



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